Halo: Untold Legends
by ArkAngel1242
Summary: Jason Stark is left motherless after an attack on his home world by the Covenant. Fueled by a desire to protect humanity, Jason enlists in the UNSC Marine Corp to fight in the Human-Covenant war. He and his squad must survive the Academy if they ever hope to save the galaxy. A story of love, loss, and hope. Written by ArkAngel1242 and Kyla1117
1. Prologue

Halo: Untold Legends

by ArkAngel1242

and

Kyla1117

Prologue - Under Attack

I looked up from my book at my mom. Her graying, once dirty blonde hair brought out the color of her blue eyes. Those were the eyes I looked into every day when I was a baby, lying on my back, looking up at my protector. Those eyes signified gentleness and care, warmth and love. As I looked into them now, I still felt that warmth, although in a different way. It's a more understanding kind of love, refined throughout my years of developing maturity.

But now, those eyes showed fear and anxiety, along with a different kind of love; a protective, worrisome kind of love. She fidgeted on her feet and tugged at the hem of her gray shirt. My brow creased in confusion.

"Mom, what's the matter?"

"It's your brother," she said, her voice shaking a bit. I could see fear in her eyes. Now I was worried. My mother didn't get this upset unless something really bad was going on.

"What about him?" I asked tentatively. She swallowed.

"He hasn't returned from the market. I don't know why; I tried calling him, but he won't answer." I relaxed slightly. It didn't seem like a major issue. But then again, my mom seemed really agitated. I was about to reassure her that everything would be fine when she continued talking.

"This could be serious, Jason. When I turned on the news, the comm-casters were talking about something happening in one of the cities farther out on the colony. They said that they had started to lose communications with them, and that there had been military mobilization. I think that's what's happened at the market; the military is keeping in civilians."

I frowned. "Well why the heck would they do that?"

My mom opened her mouth to respond when suddenly, her eyes went wide with shock.

My heartbeat quickened as I tried to figure out what was wrong. "Mom, what's the matter?" She pointed a shaking hand out of my bedroom window. I turned to follow her gaze and froze in place on my bed.

A huge, dark purple ship was emerging from the clouds, moving slowly across the horizon towards our town. As it got closer, it started to take up the entire sky, blocking out the sun and casting my world into an unnatural darkness. The ship was ovular, with a wider, flatter middle and more rounded ends. Small fins jutted out of the underbelly of the front and the back of the bulbous, insect-like apparition.

"Holy shit," I muttered. "It's them." I saw my mom's face fall, and I could tell that she was starting to panic.

"Mom, stay calm," I said, trying to keep my fear from showing in the tone of my voice. "It'll be fine; it's just some sort of . . . some kind of -"

BOOM! A bomb-sized blast shook the house as a bright green explosion flared outside our house. I fell out of my bed and landed on the wooden floor, landing on my wrist. I gasped out in pain, and my mom reached out to lift me up. Another blast rocked the building as we hurried out into the family room. The holoscreen was on, showing nothing but an error message.

"That was on the news channel," my mom muttered. "The one I was watching before I went to get you . . ." She looked at me and I registered what she was trying to tell me: the news station was gone. We were under attack.

I couldn't believe it. We're under attack.

"It's the Covenant! Nothing else would have ships like that" I protested, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that the things destroying my home were the same wretched creatures who had almost destroyed the entire planet eighteen years ago. My mom shook her head, her mouth hanging open as she tried to form words. Then another explosion broke the silence, followed by screams. The bomb must have hit one of our neighbor's houses, probably the Donovan's. I looked out the window at the smoldering wreckage of their home. I could see Mr. Donovan lift himself off the ground next to his overturned tractor. He had been doing work while his family stayed inside . . . and now they were . . . they were . . .

"Jason!" my mom yelled. "We have to go!"

I tore my gaze from Mr. Donovan's shaking form as his wails began to reach our ears and nodded hurriedly. "You're right. Let's go to the car and go get Chris." We ran outside to where our old car sat in the driveway. I looked off across the plains of wheat and farmland and saw plumes of smoke rising into the sky. If I wasn't already panicking, then I certainly was now.

My god, I thought. They're destroying everything! I didn't know exactly who "they" were, but I was positive of one thing: they were fucking evil.

My mom and I just stood there for a second, trying to take it all in, when we heard a scream behind us.

"Get down!" I realized it was Mr. Donovan yelling the warning when a strange hum filled the air and another bright green explosion filled my vision. I was thrown from my feet and landed on the grass in front of my house, the force of the impact driving the air from my lungs. My ears were ringing and I could barely lift my head.

I groaned and attempted to stand up, wobbling around and almost falling over again. I reached out and found the side of my house for stabilization, trying to clear my head and think straight.

Oh shit, I thought. Mom! I looked around and saw her lying a few feet away from our now demolished car, a cut on her forehead leaking blood onto her face.

"Mom!" I yelled, trying to get her to wake up as I stumbled towards her prone body. "Mom, get up! We have to get to Chris!" I finally reached her and began to shake her. She had to wake up. She just had to.

Tears began forming in my eyes. I blinked a couple times to keep them from coming out, because I knew I'd lose it if I gave in. My mom was going to be fine.

"Mom! Wake UP! We have to get out of here!" I clutched her hand in both of mine, searching her expression for some sign of life. Nervously, I pressed two fingers to the side of her neck, checking her pulse.

Despite all of the pleading, the familiar beat of my mother's heart that I had known so well as a child, always present when I pressed against her for comfort, was not there. I felt nothing. I frantically felt again, my throat aching from the effort of trying to hold down the sobs that threatened to burst from me. But there was nothing.

Nothing.

That was when I released the tears, letting them stream down my face and fall onto my mom's green shirt. The sobs wracked my body as I looked up at the Donovan's smoldering home and Mr. Donovan's blackened body a short distance away. He had tried to warn us, even after he lost his entire family. And now he and my mom were dead.

The sound of more explosions shook me out of my daze. Some sounded close, others farther off. The ship was still blocking the sunlight, but now I could make out hundreds of other smaller ships flying around, like swarms of tiny gnats compared to the behemoth around which they flew. They must have been the ones bombing us; the ones making the strange humming sound.

The sight of smoke and charred earth reminded me of my mission. I had to get to Chris. I stood up, wiping the tears from my face as I looked down at my mom. I didn't have the time to move her, let alone bury her. I fought off more tears as I thought of her lying here forever.

I began to walk away from the wrecked car and my mother's body.

"I'll be back," I murmured, choking on the words as I said them. They were lies. I would never be able to come back here. "I'll find Chris. Then I'll come back for you."

I began to run, running down the gravel path that wove through flat plains of golden farmland, now tainted with craters of blackened dirt, only a mere shadow of the destruction that I would come to know in the following years.

My home planet, Arcadia, was first attacked by the alien threat known as the Covenant in 2531. That year, the Covenant ended up killing millions of people in most of the continents on the planet, leaving the few survivors to seek refuge in my home community, Abaskun. In the year 2549, they came back again to finish the extermination they had started, which was when they destroyed my home. The people of Arcadia never threatened the Covenant. We did not make a preemptive strike or provoke any sort of conflict. They decided to kill us because we existed. Because we were not like them, or because we didn't believe in the same things they did. They wanted to wipe out not only humanity, but every living thing in the galaxy, including themselves, to propel them on some "great journey" that would allow them to reunite with their creators. Well, if the slimy bastards wanted to meet their makers, I was more than happy to help them along.

I found my brother in the midst of a huge planet-wide evacuation effort. The entire population of Arcadia was struggling to escape the genocide that was occurring on their homeland. Chris and I were herded onto the nearest escape flight off the planet along with hundreds of other men, women, and children, all of which were completely innocent and had nothing to do with the ensuing conflict. Our own military forces were caught completely off guard from the attack, and were therefore woefully unprepared for any sort of defense or counter strike that might have saved the planet.

Despite the warnings of the soldiers on our evacuation flight, Chris and I positioned ourselves by the window of our ship. I stood there and watched the Covenant raze my planet, my home, with lasers so hot, they turned the ground to glass. My brother stood there next to me, my last pillar of strength as waves upon waves of grief, frustration, and fear engulfed me. Me, a 16-year-old leaning against my 18-year-old brother, crying in front of hundred of onlookers who were in the same situation I was in.

They probably needed the same support I did, and as a growing young man, I was sure my mother would have wanted me to be strong. She would have looked me in the eye and said, "Jason, you need to be more than this right now. You need to be strong. I love you, Jason, and I know you can do it."

But I wasn't. I stood there and cried. I witnessed, firsthand, the death of my mother, friend, and home; and there was nothing I could do about it.

Nothing.

I hated the feeling of not being able to help, of being so close to someone or something, and knowing that if it was possible, you would do anything to help them. But most of all, I hated sitting around and doing nothing when there was something you could do. Chris hated it as well. He was fortunate enough to have the opportunity, because of his age, to enlist in the UNSC. I would have to wait another year.

I was ready to go right then and there and fight for humanity and all of the people who had died, or lost loved ones, or lost their homes. I knew I had something to fight for. That's what's most important when you believe in something: to believe in it so strongly and with all your heart, that you're willing to give your life for it. That's sacrifice.

When you fight a war, you have to believe in something. If you don't, then you're just fighting without a cause, and without a real purpose. Mindless violence isn't the answer to anything. Honor, courage, sacrifice; that's what you should fight for.

I sure as hell was going to do just that.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Sign Me Up

Mars, August 9, 2550

My foot bounced up and down as I stood in line, ready to hand in my ID so I could receive my validation papers. It was the day after my seventeenth birthday; I was finally old enough to enlist. After an agonizing year of sitting around doing nothing, having Chris go off and join the Marines, and staying at my neighbor's house in Losantiville, I was ready to go. Ready for training, ready for action, ready for anything.

Except for standing in lines. I was not too thrilled about that.

"I cannot believe this," I groaned, glancing at my watch for the hundredth time and checking my ID to make sure everything was correct.

The guy in front of me turned around to grin at me. He had short, spiky black hair and dark skin, probably someone of Hispanic descent. "They've been doing this stuff for centuries, and they still haven't come up with a more efficient way to check credentials and get people onto shuttles," he joked.

I smirked. "So much for 'military intelligence", huh?" One of the security guards gave me a dirty look, causing the guy in front of me to quickly hide his smile and assume a serious face.

"Hey man," he whispered, nudging me in the ribs. "what do you think you're doing? This is no place to joke around. This is serious, dude." He gave me a wink, and I was put at ease.

"What's your name?" I asked. He flashed me his ID, which must've been a bit out of date, as it showed him with long black hair that stuck up all over his head, and a slightly manic grin.

"Miguel Rodriguez, amigo. Everyone calls me Rod, though. No respect for the name, huh?"

"I guess not," I said with grin, extending my hand for him to shake. "I'm Jason Stark."

He took it with a firm grip and shook. Then someone up at the front moved off to head to the shuttle, and we all took a step forward.

Rod continued talking. "So what's your deal? Why're you enlisting?" he asked, a curious gleam in his eye.

I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. "Well, uh, I lost my home on Arcadia a while back when it was glassed. My mother didn't make it." At this Rod looked genuinely somber.

At least he's not rude, I thought. "My older brother and I moved here to Mars looking for an easy job, and we found it working at the factory downtown. He enlisted soon after we got here, though. He felt like he needed to join as soon as possible. Same with me."

Rod nodded. "I know what you mean. My cousins were killed on Harvest. I knew that when I was old enough, there ain't no place I was goin' except the Marines. So here I am. ready to fight some Covies."

"Next," the lady at the front desk called with a slight English accent. Rod turned around to look at her and realized it was his turn.

"Quit your yapping, sir, and move on up," she said, eyeing Rod with annoyance. "You're holding up the line."

Rod took a couple steps up and gave the lady his ID. As it was being verified, I looked around the large station we were in. It hadn't changed much since I had come here with Chris. Same high-vaulted ceilings, same shuttles, and basically the same people.

I spotted a campaign poster on the wall to my right. It showed a Marine with his trusty MA5 Assault Rifle on the top of a hill, firing down into hordes of Covenant forces. In the background, other UNSC forces were depicted performing great acts of heroism; dragging a fallen comrade, knifing an enemy, and blasting away from a turret-mounted Warthog. All if the Marines' faces showed the same characteristics I expected: stoic, brave, hardened faces of truly awe-inspiring men and women. There was no doubt in my mind that I would be just like those Marines on the poster when I joined.

"OY! Young man!"

I was jolted out of my reverie by the shout of the woman at the desk. Her face was red with anger.

"Get a bloody move on! We don't have all day!"

Blushing with embarrassment, since everyone within twenty yards was now staring at me, I moved forward to hand the woman my papers.

She glanced up as she took them. "You youngsters ought to start paying attention, or you're going to have a very rude awakening when you get to your training."

"Yes ma'am," I said, firmly, taking back my papers after she had checked them. I could see Rod out of the corner of my eye, off to the right near the entrance to the shuttle lines. He was grinning devilishly. Smiling slightly, I joined him at the entrance, and we continued walking.

"See what I mean, amigo? Everyone here is so serious. No room for joking around," he jibed. Right after he opened his mouth, two girls walked out of the bustling crowd in front of us, heading for the restrooms. One of them, a light blonde, whispered to her brunette friend as they strolled, glancing in our direction and laughing. The other looked at us with a smirk, seeming to find something about us amusing. Rod followed them with his eyes right until they neared us, when he stuck his hand in his pocket and assumed some sort of cool-guy attitude.

"How you doin'?" he asked as the girls approached. The blonde responded immediately, ignoring Rod's question.

"You guys are so dumb, I mean, really! Is it so hard to pay attention?" The brunette smirked a little, but elbowed her friend, muttering to her under her breath. The blonde sighed. "Fine, that was a little rude. I'm Miley. This is Kim." She stuck out her hand to shake, which we both did. Kim hung back, not offering any words, watching me with a slight frown. Almost like she recognized me from somewhere.

"So, laaaadies," drawled Rod. "What brings you here?" Miley rolled her eyes.

"Same reason as you, dummy. Kill some Covies, yeah?" At this, Kim smiled directly at me, making me forget to breathe. It wasn't a particularly cute smile, but it was genuine and warm. Then I noticed her eyes - a strange, entrancing shade of green. I shook out of my daze, realizing that Miley had just asked me a question.

"Sorry, what?"

She laughed. "I was in the middle of asking you how you thought you were going to make it through training with the attention span of a sparrow, but I suppose you just answered my question. And we've gotta go, but thanks a lot, guys, this has been an enlightening chat." She grabbed Kim's elbow and steered her away. But I noticed the brunette casting another curious look at me over her shoulder with those incredible eyes.

Rod ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up. "I think they liked us. Don't you?"

I shrugged, still watching Kim. Rod followed my gaze and grinned, bumping into me with his shoulder. "Ah, you like her, don't you? And so a tragic love story begins . . ." he trailed off in a dramatic tone.

"Tragic? Who said anything about tragic?" I demanded, before realizing that he had manipulated me into admitting that I liked her.

And judging by his widening grin, he knew it. "Oh, just shut up, Rod."

"Take off in 2 minutes. Please secure all loose carry-on luggage in the overhead compartments, and make sure all seat belts are properly tightened and locked."

The automated voice sounded through the loudspeakers in the large cabin of the shuttle, the slight monotone obviously belonging to the ship's onboard AI, or Artificial Intelligence. I checked by seat belt and then looked over to where Rod was sitting next to me. His belt was loose at the place where the straps crossed over his chest to form an "x", and he was lying back in his chair with his eyes closed, snoring loudly.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, with a slight smile. Idiot.

As I glanced around the cabin of the shuttle, I took in all of the faces that surrounded me. I was sitting on the right hand side of the craft, in the middle of a row of individual seats, with the back of my chair against the wall. Another two rows divided the cabin in half, the chairs sitting back to back, so that one row faced me and the other faced the row on the left side of the shuttle. Looking down the lines, I saw a few people that I had spotted amidst the tumult of the station, including Kim and Miley. They were sitting in the row facing me, a few chairs down to my left. As Kim buckled her seat belt, her gaze met mine, and I was again looking into those brilliant green eyes. Her lips curled into that smile she had given me back in the station.

Suddenly I realized I was staring, and I snapped my head forward and pretended to look at the safety diagrams on the tops of the overhead compartments. I heard a faint laugh down the cabin, and Rod stirred beside me.

He glanced at my flushed face and then at Kim and Miley, and put on his manic grin.

"I told you, man, you're totally into her," he said matter-of-factly as the shuttle lifted off.

"And I told you: shut up," I retorted. Thankfully, he did just that, but I knew it wouldn't be long before he brought it up again. Then I noticed Miley giving Rod a flirtatious wink. His response was just as shy as mine - he ducked his head and gave her a hesitant smile. She laughed and turned away, striking up a conversation with Kim.

I tsked at Rod. "All that big talk, man, and that's how you flirt with a girl? Nice going."

"Hey, it's not like you did better!" he said, shoving into me good-naturedly.

"I was performing evasive maneuvers!" I protested. "While you looked like you were afraid of her!"

"I wasn't afraid of her! Girls love insecure guys," Rod babbled.

"Yeah, sure," I grinned. "You looked like you were checking out your feet or something." I mocked his stance, dramatically ducking my head.

"Shut up, Stark. I'm gonna kick your ass in training."

"Yeah, yeah, good luck with that." At this point, the shuttle began exiting the atmosphere, cutting off any attempt Rod had made at a retort. I gazed open-mouthed out the window as a pitch-black sky appeared, dotted with brilliant stars. Behind us, Mars loomed, a rusty red color, looking old but strong. I felt a pang of sadness at leaving it. The Red Planet had only been my home for six months, but it'd been a good home.

I shook my head. No more thinking like that, I told myself. I've got to get focused. I'm going to be training soon, and there will be no time to think about home . . .

Just then a large, muscular man in military dress uniform walked into the cabin, the door closing behind him with a hiss and a clang. His brown hair was beginning to gray, but that didn't seem to suggest that he was getting old. On the contrary; he looked ready to go toe-to-toe with anything the Covenant could throw at him. He was an imposing figure alright. Everyone had stopped talking and given him their full attention as soon as he entered.

"So you're the new batch of recruits, huh?" he said, his deep, rough voice cutting through the silence. Not exactly cutting it like a knife; a knife would be too elegant.

We all nodded and muttered assent.

He leaned forward a bit, like he was straining to hear what we had said. "What was that? I can't hear you, maggots!"

"Sir, yes sir!" we chorused.

"Sir yes sir my ass!" he bellowed. "I am Sergeant O'Malley, but you will call me 'sir' or 'Sergeant' only'. You will respond to my questions and commands promptly and vigorously from now on. If you fail to do so, I will have you say it a hundred times as I send you running laps around the training complex! Am I understood?" With this last tidbit, he looked right at Rod, who had been slouching in his seat before and was now sitting up straight at attention. I resisted to urge to laugh; Rod looked as scared as hell.

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Good. You're not as dense as I had hoped," he said, his comment causing many of the recruits in the shuttle to assume confused faces. Sergeant O'Malley sighed.

"Something unclear, cadets?" He looked around the cabin, searching for someone to call on. His gaze landed on a skinny boy who sat across from Rod.

"You, string-bean," barked Sergeant O'Malley. "What's the problem?"

The boy responded immediately, his voice level and confident.

"We were just wondering, sir, why exactly you would want us to be dense. That's all sir," he said. I had to give the kid props. He wasn't intimidated by the grizzled Sergeant one bit. He spoke with an intelligence that didn't give way to smartassness, but rather asserted him as an intellectual. I liked him.

The Sergeant, hearing the boy's response, narrowed his eyes. "What's your name, cadet?" he asked.

"Edward Worthing, sir. Age 17. Lived on Earth most of my life, sir, but my family moved to Mars only a little while ago." Edward took a breath and was about to continue when the Sergeant cut him off.

"I asked for your name, not your life story, cadet!"

Edward flushed, but still retained his confidence.

"This kid is good," Rod whispered to me out of the corner of his mouth.

I nodded, but dared not to open my mouth. Sergeant O'Malley gave us all a sweeping look, then continued,"

"To answer your question, Worthing, I was hoping you'd all be a bit dimmer because it's more fun that way." That didn't sound too great. O'Malley grinned as he saw our faces. "It's more fun to kick you around and make you work your ass off when you're dumber, because then you don't understand why. And I like to keep you on your toes."

The silence seemed to thicken as the sergeant finished. Giving us all one last look, he turned around and walked toward the door. In the doorway, he paused, then looked over his shoulder at us.

"Prepare yourself, cadets," he growled. "You're in for a world of pain and suffering."

With that final cheerful warning, Sergeant O'Malley left.

Rod let out a breath as the cabin slowly began to fill with conversation. "Well . . ." he sighed. "I don't know about you, but I am brimming over with enthusiasm and confidence."

"Nailed it," I said in reply. "That is exactly how I feel right now."

Then I leaned my head back against my seat, closing my eyes and attempting to drift off to sleep.

"Not really much else you can do, huh?" whispered Rod, nudging me a bit in the side. "I think I'll follow your example for now, amigo. But when we get to training, I'll be the one setting the example. You'll see."

I grinned as I began to drift off. "I'm sure I will."

Then the blissful serenity of sleep engulfed me, and I was silent. I dreamed that I was drifting through the stars . . . beautifully green stars . . .


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Welcome to . . . The Academy

Reach, August 10, 2550

I awoke to the sound of excited chatter and rumbling engines. Rubbing my weary eyes, I looked out one of the cabin windows, and was all of the sudden awake.

We were flying above a beautiful city, situated on the shores of a sea. Tall, elegant skyscrapers pierced the horizon, where the sun had just begun to rise. All of the other cadets were just as mesmerized as I was.

Most of us had grown up away from huge cities like this one, mainly because we'd lived in the Outer Colonies. A few cadets who had lived in the Inner Colonies, like Edward, were used to huge metropolises like this one. Even to me, this city was magnificent. Losantiville had nothing on it.

Rod was staring out as well, his mouth slightly open. When he noticed that I was awake, he quickly shut his mouth and assumed a bored face.

"I've seen better," he explained, when he saw my questioning look.

"Have you now?"

I whipped my head around to look at Edward, who had just called out Rod. His arms were crossed in his lap, and he was looking curiously at Rod.

Rod straightened up slightly. "Why yes, in fact, I have."

"What have you seen then? What have you seen better than New Alexandria?" Edward inquired, gesturing to the city below.

Rod opened his mouth, then closed it, and finally flushed. "Oh, just shut up," he mumbled.

I gave a wink to Edward, who nodded in reply, smiling slightly. Now I like him even more, I thought.

New Alexandria, the crown jewel of the planet, was one of the largest cities of the Inner Colony Reach. The metropolis was filled with hard-working men and women, all of whom enjoyed the comfort and relaxation offered by many of the city's hotels and resorts. Not only was it a center for business and enterprise, but it was also located near Reach's three space elevators; a huge, tower-like structure used to ferry supplies and sometimes people into space from the surface of a planet. The proximity to these space tethers, as they were sometimes called, resulted in even more people coming to New Alexandria.

The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon, casting an orange light over the city. The many windows on the building below reflected the sunlight, throwing glares of orange into the sky.

I heard Rod whistle beside me. "She sure is beautiful," he whispered.

I nodded. "You said it."

Little did I know that we were actually talking about two different things. After a prolonged silence, I looked up to realize that Rod was staring at Miley, not the city. I grinned and shook my head. As I looked down at the beautiful city below, I began to wonder about training. What was really going to happen? Was it as bad as everyone made it sound?

Shortly after Sergeant O'Malley had left the cabin, the cadets had began to talk about what the facility where we would train to be Marines was going to be like. A few people had speculated that it would be like a school; some said it was going to be like a prison.

Basically the same thing, I thought, recalling the years I had spent in school back on Arcadia. I didn't particularly enjoy school, mainly because none of the other students seemed to care. It created a bad atmosphere, and it rubbed off on me. I still learned a lot of things, but I didn't have many fond memories.

I was hoping that training wouldn't be like school again: people goofing off all of the time, not paying attention, bullies running rampant; all of that. It angered me whenever people didn't take things seriously, especially when it had to do with the war. I respected and looked up to the people who fought in it, and when others just joked and passed it off like it was no big deal, I got pissed off real fast.

So I wasn't surprised when I got into a fight just as we landed.

When the engines turned off as we touched down on the tarmac of a landing strip just outside New Alexandria, the same automated voice sounded over the speakers.

"Please wait until trained personnel arrive to help you exit the shuttle before leaving the cabin." Soon after, uniformed officer came into the cabin and began to escort us out of the bay doors. Rod and I were smack dab in the middle of the crowd, shuffling forward unsteadily.

"I guess the UNSC has never really fully grasped the concept of personal space, huh?" Rod grunted as he squeezed between two cadets. I attempted to follow, managing to bruise my shoulder in the process.

"It seems they have a lot of those kinds of problems," I groaned.

Rod nodded assent. "Yep. First, a slow and painful identification process, and now this: death by amoeba exit formation."

"Still," I said, breaking through a clump of people to a space in the crowd, "they're doing their best. I suppose they can't exactly focus on crowd control when there's a war to fight out there."

"Damn straight," Rod said with a nod. Then someone called out in a smooth, yet commanding voice.

"Bullshit."

I turned to see the speaker, and I sighed when I saw him. He was about my height, maybe a bit taller, with brown hair styled in typical pretty-boy fashion. His body language would suggest he was bored, but the expression on his face said otherwise. He was clearly interested in what I had said, just not in the way I would hope. I had sighed because these kinds of people were exactly the kind of people that pissed me off whenever I met them. And this one was no exception.

Rod raised an eyebrow as he beheld the speaker. "Eloquent, my good man," he drawled, assuming the accent of a pompous upperclassman. "Your outcry truly conveys your obvious intelligence and understanding of the matters being discussed between my compatriot and me."

The cadet laughed, although there was no warmth in it. "Speak for yourself, compadre. You don't seem like the schoolboy type to me. You're more of a . . . garbage man."

At this Rod stiffened and his face hardened. Clearly this wasn't the first 'garbage' jab he'd heard.

"You better watch your mouth, jackass!" he exclaimed, taking a step towards the cadet. I grabbed his arm and held him back, whispering for him to calm down. Many of the cadets had stopped moving towards the transport vehicles that would take us to our training facility and began to watch what was happening.

Rod calmed down and resumed his laid back demeanour, albeit with a little stiffness.

"Nice little pet you have there," the cadet said with a thin, cold smile, looking at me and gesturing to Rod. "Do you keep him housetrained?"

I cut Rod off before he could retort. "What's your problem, jackass? You got something against fighting for humanity?" I asked him, going back to the source of the conflict.

The cadet narrowed his eyes for a second, then relaxed and once again assumed his apathetic facade. "As a matter of fact, I do. In a way." He took a few steps toward Rod and me, got right up in our faces. "At least fighting for little patriotic cretins like yourselves. I feel sorry for your mothers - except, wait, no, I don't. Because they are undoubtedly bitc-" Rod again launched himself with a yell at the cadet, and this time I didn't hold him back. I was too busy doing the same. The guy had insulted my mother. Who was dead. He was going to pay.

I reached the guy first, before Rod, and showed him how I felt by giving him a swift punch to the face. Or I tried to. He ducked out of the way and kicked me in the side, then turned to face Rod, clipping my face with his elbow as he did. My side and cheek burned with pain, but I burned with anger, and I wasn't going to stop because he'd hurt me. Rod had managed to land a punch in the guy's gut and now he was whaling on my friend. So I came up behind the cadet and drove my elbow into his back with all the force I could muster. He let out a cry of pain and turned to face me, but with a blur of brown hair, someone stood in front of me. Kim.

"What's wrong with you?" she demanded. I felt my face go blank with shock. Clearly she hadn't seen the whole scene. Right?

She took a few steps closer, and suddenly her green eyes looked like poison to me. At least she was a few inches shorter than I was. "I said, what's wrong with you? We're here to fight the Covies, not each other, asshole!" Far from feeling ashamed, I felt angry. Hadn't she heard him insult me? Then Kim turned on the other cadet.

"And you! Insulting people? Do you really need to stick your nose where it doesn't belong, Mark?" How'd she know this guy's name?

Now everybody was staring at us, and I felt my face flush with embarrassment. I didn't know at the time, but Kim was as embarrassed as I felt. I couldn't tell, though. She turned on her heel and joined Miley, who out of everybody didn't look surprised.

"Okay, people, there's nothing to see here!" she said, shooing everybody along. "Go back to walking infuriatingly slow. Or, hey, maybe you could pick up the pace. That wouldn't be so bad." There was a faint smattering of laughter, and Miley looked pleased with herself.

As the crowd compacted around me, I was forced to walk with Mark on one side and Rod on the other.

"This isn't over, jackass," Mark warned me out of the corner of his mouth. "I'll get you. Kim was right, you're an asshole. Oh, and by the way - I saw the way you looked at her. Stay away if you know what's good for you."

"No fear of that," I growled back under my breath. "She called me an asshole, remember?" Mark snorted and forced his way ahead, away from Rod and I.

"Am I really that obvious when I like somebody?" I muttered to Rod. He grinned, despite the black eye blooming on his face.

"Yeah, you kinda are."

"Fabulous," I grumbled. I'd rather keep my emotions to myself, I thought. I need to be more careful in the future. I really don't need to give that Mark guy more ammo to use against me.

We finally reached a large parking lot, where troop-transport Warthogs were lined up, with drivers ready to take us to the training facility. Rod and I crammed into the bed of one of the cars, with four other cadets piling in. I could see Kim and Miley get into a Warthog not too distant from use. For a brief second, we made eye contact. Her expression was hard and showed . . . disappointment? I couldn't tell for sure. Either way, she shook her head slightly and sat down, her back to me.

As the engine started up and we began to roll out, I leaned my head against the railing of the open-bed back seat and closed my eyes, trying to concentrate. Training was already off to a bad start. Not only did I already make an enemy, but I also managed to piss off the girl who I thought was into me.

"Girl troubles, huh?" asked Rod, leaning over to look at me. I opened my eyes a little to give him a "Oh, really?" sort of look. He grinned anyway.

"Women are hard, man. They're not easy to figure out. Just when you think you understand them, boom! They've changed. Or they just didn't think the way you thought they did in the first place. Either way, you're usually wrong about them."

My eyebrows knitted in curiosity. "Since when have you been an expert on girls, Rod? You were the guy who used, 'How you doin'?' as a pickup line. Plus, you're into Miley."

Rod suddenly got defensive. "What's wrong with her, Stark?"

I smiled wryly. "Oh, nothing. Nothing at all."

"Man, forget about girls. You're almost harder to figure out. I can never get a full read on you, Jason Stark."

"Consider that a good thing. There's a lot more to Jason Stark than you would care to know."

The training center loomed ahead of us as we drove up the wide, paved, cliff-side road. One we dismounted, we were given a full tour of the compound.

The facility, officially called the New Alexandria Military Academy, was situated on the top of a wide mountain, several miles from the outskirts of New Alexandria. The main structure was a large, pentagon-shaped building planted right in the middle of the compound. Several other smaller buildings were spread around the main structure, like a college campus, with one large path winding from building to building, starting and ending at the center plaza, which was right in the middle of the pentagon. A communications tower was on one of the higher hills, and a huge training field stretched out behind it, going right up to the start of a thick forest at the edge of the compound. All in all, it was an imposing sight indeed. A mixture of solid, simplistic military architecture and graceful elegance combined to make a truly fitting training center.

"What do you think?" muttered Rod as we made our way to the main hall, which was part auditorium, part dining hall. "Prison, school, or gym?"

"All of the above. Minus the prison part. It's too cool to be a prison," I responded, glancing into one of the classrooms we walked past. Cadets in training uniform were all sitting around a table that was projecting a 3-D, holographic image of a battlefield from it's surface, while an instructor pointed and spoke about the projection.

Rod raised his eyebrows. "Pretty dope. I wonder if we'll get to use those."

Our tour guide look over her shoulder and motioned for all of us to hurry along. We walked through several more hallways, each sporting it's share of classrooms and closed doors, which of course sparked our interest. Any closed door in a military facility had to have something interesting behind it. It's practically a law.

At long last, we arrived in the main hall. When we entered, all of the tables had been moved to the outer perimeter of the room, some against the wall to the left, others to the huge floor-to ceiling window that took up the right side of the hall. A wide stage was situated at the far end, and on it stood several very distinguished looking people in full military dress uniform. One was Sergeant O'Malley, who was lined up shoulder-to-shoulder with other men and women of the same rank. Right smack in the middle of the formation was a decorated woman with short black hair twisted into a bun and a stern expression on her face. A bronze name tag on her uniform, next to a sizable amount of medals, identified her as Commander Moore.

Rod nudged me in the rib. "That's the commanding officer of this place. I've heard she's not one for jokes, or any sort of joy for that matter," he said with a serious look.

"Looks like you're in trouble then."

"Speak for yourself, amigo. You're in this with me. If I get in trouble, so will you. It's the cost of friendship."

I let out a sigh. "So be it. Just keep your mouth shut when you need to."

Rod drew a finger across his mouth, like he was zipping it shut. "Consider it done."

Our tour guide brought us to a stop in front of the stage, making sure we were all arranged in a tight square. Rod and I were in the third row or so, right smack dab in the middle.

Suddenly one of the officers on stage let out a shout.

"Atten-tion!"

We all stood straight up, brought our legs together, and snapped our right hands up to our eyebrows in salute. It was a maneuver I had been practicing for years, hoping that one day I'd be able to use it for real. Sure enough, that time had come. And no one in that entire auditorium had anything on my salute. It was quick, precise, and respectful to the nth-degree; a thing of beauty. Rod, glancing out of the corner of his eye at me, moved his hand down a little and stood up a little straighter, mimicking my pose. I could barely keep a grin from spreading across my face. It was nice to be the best at something, even if it was only a salute.

Commander Moore nodded. "At ease."

We all relaxed, bringing our hands down behind our backs and spreading our legs out slightly in classic parade-rest position. Once again, I had done it the best.

"Welcome, cadets," Commander Moore said loudly, her voice booming out across the room. It wasn't necessarily a very feminine voice, but it also wasn't very masculine. It was almost . . . motherly? No, too stern. Either way, the Commander had already moved on. "Welcome to what will be the most important year of your life. This facility will house for for the next twelve months, and for some of you, even longer. Here, you will learn about military tactics, analyze real-life firefight scenarios, and research great military leaders and their campaigns, all in the fully-functional classrooms we have constructed specifically for those purposes. Outside the classroom, you will all be put through a strict and challenging training program designed to simulate real combat situations, all of which will test your skills as soldiers and leaders."

All of us we silent as she spoke, a few glancing around to give questioning looks at their comrades.

Rod leaned over ever so slightly in my direction and whispered as quietly as he could, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. "Sounds like heaven. Classwork and intense physical exercise. My kind of party."

I gave a quick nod in response, not willing to risk detection if I spoke. I most certainly did not want to get in trouble on my first day, at least more so than getting into a fight had gotten me.

Commander Moore looked over all of us for a few seconds, then began to pace.

"This facility has been training cadets and turning them into battle-ready Marines for decades. Due to this, we have a rather important reputation to uphold. All of you are expected to follow any and all rules and orders made by your commanding officers. If you fail to comply, there will be consequences." With the last word she stopped pacing and turned to look at us again.

I let out a breath. Commander Moore most certainly was not one for joking.

"If you want to last long here, and join your brothers and sisters in arms out on the battlefield, then I suggest you all put on your best attitudes and take everything I'm saying as Gospel. Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" we all chanted.

"Then welcome to the Academy."

Commander Moore turned toward our tour guide. "Carry on, Coleman."

Coleman nodded her head and lead us out of the hall and toward our barracks. As I started to walk out, someone called out my name.

"Stark. A word, please."

I turned to look at Commander Moore. She had said it.

Rod gave me a nudge. "Go. Don't want to piss her off, do we?"

With a gulp, I nodded and walked over to the Commander. Without saying a word, she turned and started to walk out the opposite exit. I followed quickly behind, casting glances at the officers still standing on the stage. Sergeant O'Malley narrowed his eyes at me and gave me a weird look, as if to say, You better watch it, Marine.

Yep, I thought. He'd totally say that.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ups and Downs . . .

Reach, August 10, 2550

In a few minutes, I was sitting in Commander Moore's office. She sat behind a small, black desk that seemed too small for the workspace of the leader of a military academy. On the wall above her, letters carved out of a smooth, gray stone spelled out "New Alexandria Military Academy".

I sat down in a chair in front of the desk, facing the Commander. She was quiet for a while, simply studying me. Then at last, just as I was beginning to worry that I had overlooked some minute protocol, she spoke.

"Mr. Stark, I was informed by Sergeant O'Malley that you got into a small fight with another cadet before arriving here at the academy. Is this true?"

I cleared my throat before answering. "Yes ma'am." I opened my mouth to say something else, but then thought otherwise and closed it.

Commander Moore raised an eyebrow. "Do you have something else to say, cadet?"

"Um, yes ma'am, if I may. How did Sergeant O'Malley come to learn of this? He travelled here with some of the other officers by a different route than the rest of us."

At this the Commander sighed. "That is none of your concern, cadet."

It was Mark, then, I decided.

"I was told that you and your friend, Mr. Rodriguez, attacked him without warning or provocation," she continued.

Now it was my turn to sigh. "I'm sorry, Commander, but that is complete and utter bull-" I stopped when I realized who I was speaking to. Commander Moore looked thoroughly unimpressed. "Um, what I meant to say is that that is not what I believe to have happened."

Commander Moore leaned a bit closer to me, speaking softly. "And what do you believed to have happened, Mr. Stark?"

I could tell that she really didn't care what I thought had happened, but I said it anyway. "The cadet that I fought with had insulted my friend, ma'am. And my mother."

I expected the Commander to blow off the last claim, but instead she just nodded with a look of . . . understanding?  
"Your mother died on Arcadia during the second Covenant attack, correct?"

I nodded.

"And your father left you at an early age?"

At this I was puzzled. How did she know that? Even if she had actually bothered to do a full background check on me, which I doubted, she wouldn't have found that much information on my father. Like she had said, my father left us when I was just a toddler. I don't have many memories of him, and Chris and my mother didn't like to talk about it. I barely knew anything about him myself, except his name. Aidan Stark. But how did Commander Moore know . . . ? And did I dare ask?

"Um, yes, ma'am. May I ask how you know?" I asked tentatively.

"No, you may not," she answered firmly.

Well, okay then.

"Now," Commander Moore continued. "I understand your provocation, but you may not fight other cadets. If I learn of any more altercation between you and any other trainee, you will be expelled from the academy. No second chances. Am I clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Very well. There is an official outside waiting to escort you to the barracks. Dismissed." I stood up without a word and turned to go.

"Oh, and Stark?"

"Yes, ma'am?" I asked, turning back towards her.

She paused for just a fraction of a second. "I'll be watching your progress. Dismissed."

"Well that's creepy," Rod remarked as I recounted her last words to me, safe in the barracks. "It's like the military version of 'You'd better watch out, jackass.'"

"Eloquently put, Mr. Miguel Rodriguez, well done," I snorted, rolling my eyes. "It wasn't like that," I added. "It was almost like . . . like she'd be looking out for me."

"Attention's gone to your head, bro," he said, rolling his eyes too. "She's Commander."

"As in not allowed to show favoritism?" I mused.

Rod raised his voice. "As in fucking terrifying, man!"

I laughed. "All right, all right, keep your pants on."

We were sitting inside my room, which was a small little area, complete with a bed built into the wall, like a large shelf, a holodesk, and a few stools. I had just taken off my dress uniform and switched into my casual attire when Rod had walked in.

"So where's your room?" I asked.

Rod jerked his head towards the left wall. "Right next to yours. Great placing on the part of the officers, right?"

"Indeed."

Just then my door slid open, and Kim stepped in. She looked like she had just taken a shower; her hair was still damp, and little streams of water occasionally ran down her face. I could smell her shampoo . . . It was like -

"Hey! I'm talking to you!"

I snapped out of my daze, realizing that Kim had been talking to me. Rod looked at me with a mocking expression, and I shot him a look that told him to shut it.

Looking back to Kim, I assumed as much dignity as I had left. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

She pursed her lips. "I was saying that since you two are in my squad, I expect you to shape up, or else you'll get your asses whooped, compliments of yours truly. I've been waiting years to get into this academy and I do not want to get dragged down or worse, expelled, because of a couple of dipshits."

Rod stopped mid-yawn and gave Kim a hurt look. "Wait, you mean . . . us? Pleeeease. We're the least of your worries."

"No, that would be whether the mess hall's food is edible," I chimed in.

"Can't trust those lunch ladies, man. They seem all nice on the outside, but on the inside, they're demons."

"Actually, most of them seem pretty bitchy on the outside too. You know, with the low income and all."

"The times, man. Such desperate times."

"SHUT UP!" Kim yelled, giving both Rod and me a start.

Kim seemed thoroughly pissed. "You just proved my point. Try to get it through your thick heads that I expect better of you. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am!" Rod said with a sarcastic salute. She gave him the stinkiest stink eye of all time and then left.

I let out a breath. "She and Commander Moore would be the best of friends. Did you hear the way she talked to us?"

"Pretty sure I did. Unless she blew out my eardrums with all of her yelling." Rod stood up to leave, shaking his head and chuckling. "Some girlfriend you have, amigo."

"Oh, she's not my girlfriend," I retorted. "She's made that abundantly clear."

Rod said something as he went out the door, but I didn't hear it. I was too busy thinking about what Kim had said. About shaping up. Moore had implied the same thing.

I guess it's wise to heed their advice, I brooded. If more people are saying than just Sergeant O'Malley, then it must be an issue. I thought about Chris, who had graduated from this academy right before I was able to join up. He sent me a video log, telling me how that even though he wanted to come home to celebrate, he had to move on to officer's school. He had received such high marks on his assessments at this academy that he was recommended to immediately go into officer's school. He hadn't sent me one since, presumably because he was just getting into the swing of things over on the other side of the planet. But I was sure he'd send me one once he got the chance.

I glanced at my watch. Only an hour until lunch.

I sighed, utterly bored. Nothing else to do but sleep.

And so I did.

When I woke up, Rod told me he had gone hunting for some information. He told me all about the staff, what each person did and what they were like. He also explained the squad system.

Apparently, the group, or "class" of cadets we had arrived with, about 60 people, were divided into squads of around 6 cadets. As of now, all we did as a group was live in our barracks together. Later on in the month, we would begin to compete against each other in the physical training portion of our time at the academy. Out of the ten squads, only half would manage to graduate and become Marines. So there definitely was wisdom in what Kim had said.

Rod also said that the top squad at the end of the year would be able to transition out of the academy, instead of having to go through another year of training, like most cadets did. They also received honors and commendations that would apparently have some sort of benefit when they were out in the shit as real soldiers.

"I didn't exactly get clarification on that," he admitted. Rod had talked to the older cadets, the ones who were in their second year. According to them, the "honors and commendations" were somewhat of a secret to those who didn't receive them, so no one really knew what they entitled. Rumor had it that the top squad would be able to use brand-new, prototype weaponry and equipment in the battlefield. But no one really knew for sure, of course.

The conversation ended at lunch. As it turned out, the mess hall's food was edible, and actually not too bad. The servers were still grumpy, of course.

Our entire class was on one half of the mess hall, with our first-year staff and most of the officers in the other half. Squads weren't required to sit in their squads, but most did anyway. This was really the first time I had seen the people I'd be working with for the next year in one place.

Kim and Rod were there, of course. A new face was Biff, a large guy of African-American lineage. He was definitely one of the tallest people in our class, and even taller than some of the officers. Despite his size, he was quite quiet. He had barely spoken, and when he had it was just to ask someone if they had any ketchup.

The other new face was actually not a new one at all - it was Ed. He had given me a vigorous handshake when we sat down and proceeded to tell me everything there was to know about the holo-systems in the facility, which apparently fascinated him. He seemed to take a special interest in the medical equipment.

The last member of the squad was our squad leader: Cody. My first impression of Cody was that he was another pompous prick, just like Mark. But when I actually talked to him, I was completely and utterly wrong. Although he seemed to hold himself high, it wasn't quite with conceit. Just dignity. Respect. Humility. Everything you'd want in a leader. He was firm in his beliefs but still understanding and cooperative. Overall, he was just a really cool guy.

So that was our squad. Kim, Biff, Cody, Rod, and me. I almost felt bad for Kim, being the only girl in a squad of guys, but somehow I was under the impression that she could hold her own with us. And that she would perform as well, if not better, than us. Still, she was friendless, with Miley in another squad. That had to be lonely.

I looked over at Kim, sitting alone at the end of the table. She picked at her food, her mind clearly far away. Her face was more open than I'd ever seen it, and she looked really lonely. And sad. But maybe that was just me creating the reality that I imagined.

Just then, she caught me looking at her and gave me an angry scowl. She stood, picking up her still-full tray, and dumped it in the trash, stalking out of the mess hall.

"Dude," Rod said, his mouth full of food. "What'd you do to piss her off now?"

"I think that's her default setting," I grumbled back. "'Pissed off.'"

He laughed, spraying half-chewed food across the table. Cody gave him a half-amused, half-disgusted look and followed Kim's example (though without the pointless rage), dumping his tray and leaving the hall.

"So where do we go after this?" I asked Rod. He shrugged.

"You expect me to listen to instructions? Mí? Come on, you should know me better by now."

"Go back to the barracks. Your schedule was sent to your holodesk. Your first class starts in ten minutes. If you're not at your class on time, you're out of here." The information came from Biff, who then left the mess as well. I looked at Rod in disbelief.

"If we're not at our first class on time, we're expelled?"

He shrugged again. "Commander's orders. Guess she's starting to weed out the delinquents early."

I let out a tired sigh. "No rest for the weary, I suppose."

"We've only been here for half a day, and you're already tired?" Rod asked half-jokingly.

I glanced at the table Mark was sitting at. He was laughing at a joke one of his squadmates had just made. When he saw me looking at him, he gave me a hateful glare and made a not-so-nice gesture at me.

"You don't know that half of it," I grumbled.

Rod shot me a curious glance. "Why is it that you've already made so many enemies? Moore, O'Malley, Mark, Kim; they all hate your guts. I'm kind of jealous."

I raised my eyebrows at this. "What? You actually want people to hate you?"

He shook his head, smiling like he knew something I didn't "Nah man. I just want a good reason to fight. Fighting ain't nearly as satisfying when you don't have something to fight for. When someone hates you, and they insult you and put you down, fighting them seems a lot more justified. If you're just fighting them for the sake of violence, that's stupid. Downright stupid."

As he talked, I realized that he was being serious. This wasn't a gimmick. This was one of those moments where I really valued Rod as a friend. Sure, he was funny, and made life seem more interesting, but in the end, he was more than that. He was sincere.

As we approached the barracks, Rod kept talking. "I'm willing to bet that most of the people here aren't here for the right reason. Guys like Mark. They're not here to fight. They're here to kill. And that's messed up. Really, really messed up. When you're just going through all of this training for glory, you need a reality check. But if you have a reason throw a punch or shoot a gun, and that reason is grounded in morality and justice, then God bless you. Because that's why we fight. And we sure need a lot more soldiers fighting for what's right."

Without saying another word, Rod went into his room and sat down at his holodesk. Taking a hint that the conversation was over, I walked over to my door and opened it.

There's certainly a lot more to Miguel Rodriguez than meets the eye, I reflected. I wonder what other words of wisdom he's got stored up inside that wacky head of his. I sat down at my desk and started it up. The first thing I noticed was that Chris had sent me a video log. I glanced at the thumbnail. He was sitting in a room similar to mine, except slightly bigger and with a real bed. I grinned.

Officer perks. I was about to open it when I heard a bell ring.

I cursed when I realized what it meant. Lunch period was over. I quickly scrolled through my home screen until I got to my schedule. I opened the file and glanced down at the middle.

"Period after lunch . . . Military History, Room 7A," I said hurriedly to myself. I looked at the time it started. Only three minutes from now. And judging by the map of the academy to the right of the schedule, Room 7A was a good ways away from my squad's barracks.

I quickly closed down the desk and ran out the door. I saw Kim and Cody run out of the door together, which for some reason sent a jab of pain to my chest.

Geez Stark, I told myself, realizing that I had just had a pang of jealousy. Pull yourself together. Stay focused and forget about Kim.

Rod was waiting at the exit to the barracks, his seriousness from a few minutes ago vanished, replaced with his usual grin.

"Come on, Jason! We don't want to be expelled on the first day, now do we?"

I shook my head. "Most certainly not. Let's go."

As we ran down the hallway, I asked Rod, "So what squad are we having Military History with?"

"Some squad of a bunch of people we don't know. I think they're called Drisco Squad." He said the last part with a laugh.

I followed suit. "What kind of a name is that?"

Rod shrugged. "Beats me."

"Wait, what's our squad name?"

"We don't have one yet. At any time in the next week, we're supposed to work with our squadmates to come up with a name. But as I'm sure you've noticed, our squad isn't so big on the whole "teamwork" thing quite yet."

I sighed. Which was something I was doing a lot of these days, unfortunately. Things will get better, I assured myself. Things will get better . . .


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

. . . Twists and Turns

Reach, August 21, 2550

"So, can anyone tell me why the Battle of Thermopylae was so important, even though all of the 300 Spartans died?" Sergeant Dunmore, our Military History teacher, looked around the room, which was shaped like a miniature auditorium, with several rows of ascending benches in the back and a large holotable in the center of the room. His eyes settled on Edward, who, for the hundredth time, was raising his hand to answer the question.

Dunmore sighed. "Mr. Worthing, you have already answered most of the questions. Could you please give other students the chance to contribute?"

Ed lowered his hand with a roll of his eyes. Mr. Dunmore, nodding appreciatively, then pointed to a cadet from Drisco Squad.

I was sitting in between Ed and Rod. Like the Sergeant had said, Ed had been answering most of the questions that he had asked. Rod, on the other hand, was content to mess around on his school-provided tablet for the entire length of the class. Strictly speaking, they were for "educational purposes only". Strictly speaking.

I glanced at Ed, who was busy shaking his head at what the cadet was saying, even though the Sergeant seemed pleased with the answer. I gave Ed a puzzled look.

Noticing my questioning glance, Ed turned to explain, whispering so that he wouldn't be noticed.

"Even though what that guy is saying is technically correct, it's not the best answer you could come up with."

I was still befuddled. "Well, why wasn't his good enough?"

Ed let out a breath, like he was about to explain something long and tedious. Damn it.

"You see, I believe that when you do something, you should be putting in 100% effort. No matter what it is you're actually doing. Giving a 'satisfactory' answer is just not good enough. If you're bothering to answer or do whatever it is you're doing at all, then why not just do it to the best of your ability?" he said, looking at me and Rod, who had just begin to listen in.

Rod shook his head with a smile. "Overkill isn't always the best approach, amigo. And that's coming from me. Sometimes, it's just better to not have to put in the effort."

Ed leaned closer, a perfectly serious expression on his face. "I believe overkill is always necessary, Rodriguez."

Rod snorted. "Not with girls, Mr. Worthing. There's no telling what could happen if you go overkill on the ladies!"

The classroom went dead silent. Everyone turned to stare at Rod, who, realizing that he had just shouted that, proceeded to attempt to shrink to the size of a mouse, unsuccessfully of course. Cody put his hands in his head, Biff sighed, Kim looked like she was going to murder someone, and Ed and I were trying to resist laughing our asses off.

Mr. Dunmore cleared his throat, giving Rod the worst teacher-stare of all time.

"Very, very intriguing outburst, Mr. . . . .?"

"Rodriguez," Rod squeaked.

"Would you be interested in telling the class what you and Mr. Worthing spoke of?"

"Um, well . . ." Rod still sounded like a mouse. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure, with limited success.

"I'd rather not say."

Mr. Dunmore nodded, as if expecting this.

"In that case, please repeat to me Mr. Kendrick's answer regarding the Battle of Thermopylae." At Rod's blank look, Mr. Dunmore half-smirked. "Surely you were paying attention? You don't expect to become a Marine without paying attention, do you?"

"No, sir. The thing is . . ." Rod began, clearly thinking hard. "The thing is, I don't approve of Mr. Kendrick's answer." Mr. Dunmore frowned thunderously.

"Oh? And why not?"

"You see, sir, while what he was saying was technically correct, sir, it wasn't the best answer he could have come up with. Sir, my actions just now make me appear to be a hypocrite, sir, but I do believe that if you're bothering to answer at all, sir, you should put in 100% or more of your effort. Sir." I tried to suppress a smile. Rod didn't seem to have noticed his overuse of the word 'sir' in his nervousness.

Mr. Dunmore looked thoughtful for a moment, then, at last, nodded his head. "You raise a fair point. All the same, in the future, I expect you, Mr. Rodriguez, and you, Mr. Worthing, to pay more attention. Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" cried Rod and Ed in unison.

"Good. Now, the Battle of Thermopylae . . ."

Rod slouched back in his seat with a heavy breath. He gave me a tired look, as if to say; This is going to be harder than I thought.

When class let out, it was off to Tactics in 3 minutes. Walking down the hallway, Rod and I were talking about what had happened in class, when Kim ran up to us.

"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh shit," Rod muttered. He was right. Kim looked calm, but that was what made me nervous.

She gave us a smile, and we returned the gesture, grinning up to our ears. Then without warning, she pulled back her hand and slapped Rod hard in the face.

"What the HELL was that?" she yelled as he reared back, a bright red handprint on his face. He grimaced in pain, stumbling into me in shock.

"Geez, woman! Everyone makes mistakes!" he protested, raising his hand to ward off another sudden attack.

But it didn't come. Kim just stood there, her arms folded across her chest.

"Look, I'm sorry for hitting you, but you deserved it. Making our squad look like a bunch of fools isn't exactly a rewarding enterprise." She shook her head and began to walk away, but I grabbed her arm as she passed.

She looked at me with those green eyes, although they didn't seem like the ones I had looked into at the recruiting station.

"Let go of me," she snarled, ripping her arm free of my grasp. "You shouldn't have done that."

I narrowed my eyes slightly. "I'm not afraid of you," I said softly. And I wasn't. She was a cadet, a fellow human. The only thing I needed to fear was the Covenant.

She cocked her head slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Oh real-"

"Yes, really!" I interrupted, causing her to shut her mouth in surprise. Without waiting for her to retaliate, I continued.

"Look, we're all on the same team here. Literally. We're a squad, which means we need to work together, and that can't be done when we're busy hitting each other," I said, giving Kim a look. Then I turned to Rod. "But we also have to keep our mouths shut sometimes, too." He lowered his head acknowledgement. Looking back to Kim, I pointed across the all at Mark and his squad, who were busy chattering on their way to their next class.

"You see them? They're the people we need to be worried about. Not each other. If we want to be good, or even be the best, then we do need to shape up, Kim. You've got that right. But it we also need to stick together. Sitting by yourself, away from the rest of us, or constantly making your displeasure with us apparent to everyone around isn't helping."

Kim pursed her lips, searching my face for any sign that I was joking around. She didn't find anything.

"You know what?" she said, taking a step closer to me. I held my ground. Holding in a breath, I let her talk.

"You're right, Jason Stark. For once." She said the last two words in a whisper. She looked at Rod, who seemed to be frozen in disbelief, then turned to walk down the hallway.

"Come on, let's go. We've got a minute left to get to class," she said over her shoulder. Rod and I exchanged glances, then followed close behind her. Rod raised his eyebrows at me, his eyes darting from Kim to me. His meaning was clear. I gave him a shove, and he grinned. As he regained his footing, I heard loud footsteps behind me. I turned to see who it was, and immediately my mood fell.

"Hey, Stark," Mark said, his usual cold smile on his face, approaching me swiftly. I stopped walking, and so did Kim and Rod once they realized that I had. Rod let out a sigh, but I couldn't tell what Kim was doing, since she was behind me, and I was making sure to face Mark without looking away. He stopped once he had caught up to us.

"Couldn't help but overhearing your little conversation with my girlfriend," he said, his smile widening when he saw my confused expression.

"Wait, Kim's your-" I started, but Kim shoved past me, cutting me off with a single look.

"We've been over this, Mark," she said through gritted teeth, giving him a hard stare. "I'm done with you. Ever since you beat up that boy in-"

"Oh, please," Mark laughed. "He had it coming to him when he tried to hit on you."

"He just complimented my hair!"

"And so I roughed him up a little."

"You broke his arm! And gave him a concussion!" At this, Rod winced.

"Whoa, sounds like someone's got anger issues," he muttered.

Mark stepped past Kim, all signs of his genial facade gone. "Shut your mouth, Rodriguez. We don't want a repeat of earlier today, now do we?"

Rod leaned back, as if recoiling from Mark's breath. "Well, I seem to recall that Jason and I gave you a pretty bad beating, so I'm actually not to worried about another round."

Mark opened his mouth to retort when Kim stepped in between them. "Mark, step away. Now." He backed up, his eyes suddenly a little worried. I would've been, too. Kim looked far angrier than she'd ever been with Rod and me. She advanced on him, looking like she was about to beat the crap out of the guy, but in unison, Rod and I caught her arms.

"Come on, Kim," I said with a glance at Mark. "Let's go to class."

For a moment, I was sure she was going to refuse. Then, "Fine," she snapped, flipping her hair out of her face and stalking off without a backward glance. Rod had no such reservations; he gave Mark a superior smirk as we hurried after her.

Once we caught up, I noticed Kim taking deep breaths, clearly trying to calm herself. "Thanks, guys," she said, and Rod and I exchanged startled looks. "It would've been bad if I'd tried to fight him. He would've kicked my ass."

"Nah," I said, and Rod nodded his agreement. "Did you see his face? He was freaking terrified. You've got one hell of a death stare, Ms . . .?" I realized suddenly I didn't know her last name. Weird.

"Barrett," she finished with a small smile. "My full name is Kimberly Barrett."

"Well, then, Ms. Barrett," Rod said in a playful teacher-like voice. "As my colleague was saying, you gave that dickhead one hell of a death stare. Quite impressive, considering he's your ex-"

"Shut up, Rodriguez," Kim interrupted suddenly, but she was smiling. "I'll still beat you up."

The first few days of training were pretty much the same. Wake up, get in dress uniform, eat breakfast, go to classes, eat lunch, go to classes, eat dinner, enjoy evening break, go to sleep. Rinse, wash, and repeat. It became a standard routine, relatively uninterrupted by scrapes with Mark. That was what the cadets at the academy called little skirmishes or face-offs: scrapes. It was one of the many little bits of slang we all picked up during our time there.

Several weeks went by, and in that time I finally got to watch the video log Chris had sent me. It wasn't anything too extraordinary; just the usual "Hey, how you doing?" kind of deal. But it was good enough for me. Chris had said that he'd try to send a log once every month at least, but I understood, with his busy schedule and all, that he couldn't make any promises. After watching his, I decided I'd make some of my own.

I sat down at my holodesk and turned on the camera that was built into the wall above my desk. A little green light winked into existence by the lense, and I began to record.

"Hey Chris. I thought that since you started making some of these, I'd return the favor. You know, just to pass the time . . ." I trailed off, not really knowing how to continue. It was my first time really making a video log, and it felt kind of weird just talking to myself. But I kept going nonetheless. "So I guess we're supposed to start physical training a week from now, at least according to Rod. Oh, right, you don't know who that is . . . he's one of my squadmates. Along with several others. Biff, Ed, Cody, and Kim. Cody's our squad leader. We don't really have a name yet. I guess we just haven't had the time to talk about it." I was starting to run out of things to say, so I just ended it.

"Yeah, so I guess I'll just end it here. Not really much else to say. See you later, bro." I shut off the camera and quickly sent the file to Chris's holodesk, all the way on the other side of the planet. I leaned back in my chair, glancing at the clock on the desk. It was just about 8:00, right after lunch. Lights out was in an hour.

"So what're you doing?"

I spun around in my chair to see Kim standing in my doorway. I hadn't even heard the door open.

I cleared my throat once. "Oh . . . I was just recording a little video log." I elaborated once I saw Kim's curious expression. "My older brother Chris, just got into the officer's academy in-"

"Yes, I know where that is," Kim interrupted impatiently, leaning against the doorframe. I raised a single eyebrow, and she rolled her eyes. "Sorry. Please continue."

"That's more like it," I said softly. Before she could retort, I kept talking. "Anyway, he decided that we should keep in touch, so he started making some video logs to send me. Just to keep me posted about what was going on over there. So I decided I'd make some too."

Kim cocked her head slightly. "Is that it?" I nodded.

"Pretty much, yeah. Life isn't too interesting over there . . . or over here, really."

She straightened up, pushing herself off of the wall. "I disagree."

"Oh, really? What's so exciting about taking a whole bunch of boring classes?" I asked, gesturing towards the schedule I had pulled up in my desk.

Kim shrugged. "It's more exciting than life back home."

That got my attention. Maybe I'll finally learn a bit about her. That's good . . . right?

"So . . . what was life like 'back home'?" I asked, putting air quotes around the last part. Kim swallowed, shifting her feet like she was uncomfortable talking about it. She reached up and twisted a bit of her hair around her finger unconsciously.

"I'd . . . rather not talk about it right now. It's kind of a . . . touchy subject." The atmosphere was suddenly tense, but I didn't want to let it go.

"Hey, I told you about Chris." Kim shook her head.

"Maybe later, Jason. Not now." She turned, walking out of the room, still playing with her hair. I relaxed against the back of my chair, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Women, I thought, shaking my head. Why does everything have to be so dramatic with them?

Just then Rod entered. I sighed.

"Is someone organizing a party in my room or something?"

Rod assumed a quizzical expression. I rolled my eyes. "Everyone's confused when they walk in, too." This didn't help Rod. "Kim was here," I explained, and that seemed to clear it up for him.

"So how'd that go?" he asked.

I rubbed my face with my hand, tired and utterly devoid of energy after answering all these questions. "I'm actually not sure. She came in asking what I was doing, I explained, we discussed how exciting it is here, she didn't want to talk about her home life, and then she left."

Rod narrowed his eyes. "You know everything you just said there?"

"Yeah . . ."

"It made no sense." I let out a long breath and slouched even farther down my chair.

"Terrific." As Rod turned to leave, he held up a finger, like he just remembered something.

"Oh, by the way, physical training starts tomorrow." I sat bolt upright, almost falling out of my chair.

"What?!" I yelled. "I thought it started next week!" Rod shrugged.

"Apparently O'Malley is having it moved up to tomorrow. He sure loves making us all hate him."

I nodded, standing up and walking over to my bed. "He's a shoo-in for Bastard of the Month."

Rod shook his head as he walked out the door. "Don't forget our dear friend Mark."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I mumbled as I took off my uniform. Once I was out of it, I fell onto my bed and was out cold in less than a minute.

Who knew talking could be so tiring . . .


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Field of Pain

Reach, September 9, 2550

"Alright, listen up, cadets!"

Sergeant O'Malley's voice blasted through the air, immediately silencing everyone gathered outside under the hot, bright sun. It was a perfect day for absolute torture, or at least that's how Kim had put it at breakfast.

Our entire class was gathered out on the huge field of the Academy. We were all dressed in khaki cargo pants and black t-shirts that had the letters "NAMA" or "New Alexandria Military Academy" printed on them in white. I'd spent the morning trying to figure out how Kim could look beautiful in crappy military clothes. This was also the first time I'd seen her with her hair up in a ponytail, and it made her green eyes appear even larger and prettier. And more dangerous. That didn't mean that I was afraid of her; she was on my team, after all. Plus, I think that we may even be friends now . . . were we?

My thoughts were interrupted by the sergeant. "This morning marks the beginning of your time in pure hell! From now on, when you are on this field, you will be in pain at all times! If you are not physically exerting yourself beyond your pitiful human limits, then you have no place here, or anywhere else in the Academy! Am I understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

O'Malley nodded slowly. "Good. Divide up by squad. Two single file lines. Move!" We did as he said, separating into our squads and then splitting from there into two lines. Cody and I were at the front of our lines.

"Now . . ." O'Malley said, pacing up and down in front of us, looking each of the cadets at the front of their line straight in the eye. He didn't say anything for a while, letting his word hang in the air. Then he got to me. He narrowed his eyes, recognizing my face. He remained silent, and so did I, staring straight at him. Neither of us flinched, until his face hardened in preparation for a furious shout.

"DROP AND GIVE ME FIFTY!" he bellowed, screaming, into my face, then looking at everyone else, indicating that was an order for all of us. Without hesitating, we all dropped into push-up position.

O'Malley kept pacing. "Count 'em out loud so I can hear with my old ears!"

"One!" we all shouted as we went down for the first push-up. "Two! Three! Four!" I had been doing push-ups since I was eight, and I could do a lot more than fifty, even if I was outside in the hot sun.

As soon as we finished, O'Malley signaled for us to stand up. As we did, I noticed a few of the cadets already sweating up a storm, panting like they had just run a marathon. I shook my head. They're out.

O'Malley barked another order.

"Now do it again! Drop down for half-a-hundred!" With a collective moan, we all did it again, our muscles weakened and stiff from the brief period of relaxation the sergeant had granted us. I realized as I started the second round of exercise that O'Malley had done that on purpose; giving us a brief moment of respite before making us do it all over again, just to make it even harder and more painful than before. I grimaced in pain and frustration. That son of a-

"Get up, cadets!" yelled O'Malley. "Run a lap around the field. Don't even think about cutting through any of the corners; you'll be out of here before you can even begin to beg for mercy."

I stood up, glancing at Cody, who inclined his head towards the edge of the field.

"We better get running, Jason. Wouldn't want to incur the wrath of O'Malley, now would we?"

I shook my head and got running. Kim, Ed, Rod, Biff, and Cody all pulled up beside me, and we ran as a group, leading the line of cadets around the field.

It was going well until Mark showed up. Halfway around the yard, he broke away from his squad and ran up beside Cody to come and have a chat.

I kept my gaze straight ahead, noticing his shape in my peripheral.

"So what's up, guys?" he asked nonchalantly, as if we were his best buddies.

Rod, of course, responded. "The sky, smart one. Do you even use those eyes of yours for anything except staring up your own ass?"

Ed snickered, then took a heavy breath. He didn't seem to have much experience with exercise.

Kim smiled. "Nice one, Rod."

"I try my best, Kim."

"You're all extremely hilarious," Mark commented, taking even, solid breaths as he ran.

Great, I thought. He's an athlete too.

Noticing my sour expression, Mark made a cooing sound, like he was consoling a hurt child. "Aw, what's the matter, Stark? Not one for jogging?"

"Not with pricks like you," I responded through gritted teeth. "I'd rather you leave."

"And I'd rather you get that sad expression off of your face, Stark." Without missing a step, Mark ran sideways to wedge between Rod and me.

"How about a little race? You know, to cheer you up?" he asked, giving me his usual cold smile.

I glanced at Kim, who was shaking her head. Don't humor him, her expression seemed to say. Just ignore him!

Slowing down slightly to a more comfortable pace, I turned my head back to Mark

"Sure. Why not?"

Mark's smile widened. "Then let's begin." He broke into a fierce sprint, pumping his arms as he ran. I followed a split second afterwards.

There wasn't much more left to run, which was good, because it meant that all I needed to worry about was running as fast as I could. Pacing myself wasn't a problem.

Mark maintained a steady sprint, only a yard ahead of me. Realizing that we were closing in on the end of the field's edge, right back where we had started, I put on a burst of speed.

Come on! I urged myself. You can't let him beat you! I ran as hard as I could, closing the gap between Mark and me. Soon we were neck-in-neck. I glanced over at him, and he glanced over at me. He had a look of fierce determination in his eyes. I could tell he was putting everything he had into trying to pull ahead. Mark was good; but I was better.

I began to rocket forward on pure adrenaline. I could see Mark's face fall as he realized I was going to win. I flashed him a smile. A defiant scowl dominated his features, and then suddenly a grin. Just as I was trying to figure out why exactly he looked so pleased, Mark keeled over, hitting the ground hard and rolling to the side.

I looked over my shoulder, confused. What the -

"CADET!"

I froze and looked back in front of me. O'Malley was walking towards me, a look of furiosity etched in every line of his face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he bellowed, getting right up in my face.

I swallowed. "Just having a race, sir."

O'Malley's face was red. "Did I tell you to race, or did I tell you to RUN A LAP?"

"Run a lap, sir."

"Damn right I did!" He looked over my shoulder, a look of disgust on his face. I turned to see several of Mark's squadmates helping him off the ground. Mark looked like he was in serious pain, limping and holding his head at the same time. The sergeant turned back to me.

"Not only did you disobey a simple order, you also cheated while doing it!"

My face went slack in disbelief. I didn't do a damn thing!

"Sir, I didn't-" I started, but O'Malley cut me off with a stare.

"I don't want to hear your petty excuse. Run another lap, double time!"

"But sir-"

"RUN THE GODDAMN LAP, CADET!"

I let my arms fall to my side in defeat. I started to jog, then looked over at my squad. Cody was shaking his head, and Rod looked crestfallen. Biff looked stoic, as usual. But Kim . . . was nowhere to be seen. As I was looking back, I found Mark. He looked back, too, his face grimaced in pain. Just as I was about to look away, he suddenly lost all signs of agony and . . . smiled.

I let out a breath, cursing. That slimy little son of a bitch. I pushed myself harder, making myself run faster on pure fury. Why is it always me? Faster. Arms pumping, legs straining. Well, he's left me no choice. Even faster. I saw a few of the cadets looking at me in disbelief. I was almost done with the lap, in way less time than it had taken them. I will out-perform him in everything he does. I will be the best damn Marine this Academy has ever seen, or die trying. I joined the rest of the cadets, minus Kim. Where was she? I stepped up beside Rod as O'Malley lectured us about the evils of cheating.

"Where's Kim?" I muttered out the corner of my mouth. He was staring at the sergeant with a look of intense concentration, but the slight tilt of his head in my direction let me know he was listening.

"Sent to Moore's office. Don't know why. O'Malley told her right after you began your second lap. Can't be good news." I inclined my head ever so slightly in acknowledgement, then began the next set of exercises that O'Malley ordered. I did them all methodically, involved enough to not get yelled at, but still really distracted. When Kim returned, her face was pale, and she looked more vulnerable than I'd ever seen her before.

"What took you so long, Cadet?" bellowed the sergeant right in her face. She looked down at her feet and whispered a few words to her shoes. Instantly, there was a change in his expression. He looked almost guilty about his rough treatment, and sympathetic. He gave Kim a rough pat on the shoulder, then sent her off to join us in our exercises. She began doing push-ups with perfect form beside me, still looking like she was in shock about something. And sad. There was a deep, aching sadness in her that I didn't understand.

"What is it, Kim?" I muttered, out of breath. I was shocked to see a tear drip down her face.

"Just . . . Just some news from home," Kim whispered shakily, sounding broken and lost. I didn't press her. Kim took a deep breath and did five more push-ups before she continued. "My planet's been glassed. My entire family, my friends, everybody I know . . . they're all dead."

I didn't know what to say. I knew how she felt, but she was worse off than I was. A few of my friends had escaped the glassing of Arcadia. And Chris. I was sure that I would've gone insane if Chris hadn't been there for me, even when he was in training. But Kim . . . she was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

But if my interpretation of her touchiness the last night was true, then her family hadn't really been family at all. She'd been alone even before the destruction - the glassing just made it certain. And yet, family, no matter un-family-like the family was, was still family. And she'd lost them.

"I'm . . . sorry," I said, out-of-breath, as we began sit-ups. She shook her head, dashing her tears away angrily.

"It's not your fault. Let's just do the training, okay?"

I nodded. "Sure."

After the several hours of training and exercise, it was time for lunch. It was probably my favorite meal of the day, only because it meant that I was a bit more than halfway through the day. But this particular lunch wasn't exactly the happiest. Kim didn't talk at all, just sitting and picking at her food. The rest of us didn't really know what to say, or if we should even say anything at all.

After conversing solely through facial expressions and eyebrow raising, Ed decided he'd try and talk.

He cleared his throat, but didn't get any farther than that.

"You don't have to say anything," Kim said, not even looking at Ed, whose mouth was open, about to speak. He closed it, giving us all a look. I tried.

We sat in silence amidst the din of the hall, seeming to be the only squad that wasn't in full conversation. I felt horrible. I made my squad look stupid by racing Mark, and then I didn't even attempt to make Kim feel better. I had Chris when we lost our parents, but Kim has no one. I felt that even if I tried to be there, I'd mess it up.

Why the hell am I so freaking stupid?! I yelled at myself. I stood up with my tray, a bit more forcefully than I'd like, knocking over Rod's cup. Everyone gave me a confused look.

"Sorry," I muttered, still fuming. I walked over to the trash, dumping my food and turning to walk out, but Mark was all of the sudden standing in my way.

"What do you want?" I asked him, attempting to calm down and resist the urge to punch him right then and there.

He shrugged, looking as if he didn't understand my meaning. "I don't want anything! I just came back from a talk with Commander Moore." Damn it. "She wants to see you, by the way."  
"Great," I replied. "Glad to hear it. Can't wait." Shoving past him, I started to walk towards the door.

"Hey, Stark," I heard Mark say behind me. I stopped in my tracks, keeping my back to him. "What's wrong with Kim? She seems upset."

I took in a deep breath, remembering Commander Moore's warning about expelling me if I got into a fight again.

"Stark? Did you hear me? Is Kim upset because of you?" The whole hall suddenly got extremely quiet.

I took a deep, deep breath. Just ignore him.

"What did you say to her Stark? Did you make your move or something?" Scattered snickering.

Ignore him . . . I started to walk, still not looking back.

"You want to know how I won her over?" I stopped once again, and this time I turned around. Everyone's eyes were on me. Mark was only ten steps away. Ten steps from a solid beating . . . .

"Well, Stark? You want to know?" Mark was smiling again. God I hate that stupid-ass grin.

I glanced at Kim, who was now looking away from her food at right at me. But she was emotionless. Not a single expression was on her face, save the blank one she gave me now. I sighed. Guess she wants me to make this decision on my own.

I gave Mark a hard stare. "How'd you do it, Mark?"

He smile widened. "You see, I took my -"

"That's enough, cadet!"

I spun around to see Commander Moore standing in the doorway, clearly unhappy to see me in here and not in her office. I glanced back at Mark. His smile was gone, and he looked a bit paler than usual.

"Yes ma'am," he said, his voice even and level. The commander raised an eyebrow, and in that single look told Mark to go sit down. Then she turned to me.

"I think I asked for you to come to my office, Mr. Stark."

I nodded. Commander Moore turned and walked out of the hall, signaling for everyone to return to their conversations. I followed her out and into the long hallway. My hand was still closed in a fist, shaking in anger. Although the adrenaline rush I had had briefly felt before I almost punched Mark had gone, the seething rage had not. I stared at Moore's back as we walked, passing several cadets in the hall. They gave me strange looks, as if they were shocked that I was going to the Commander's office.

Why do they care? I wondered. They don't know who I am . . .

Finally we arrived at Moore's office, the door opening and closing behind us with a heavy thud. For the second time, I sat in the chair opposite her desk. I was reminded of what had occurred the last time I was here.

She knew about my father . . . did Chris tell her? And if he did why? These questions suddenly flooded my mind as I took my seat.

"Hopefully this will be the last time you sit in that chair, Mr. Stark," Commander Moore said as she took her own seat. I shrugged.

"I can't make any promises, ma'am."

"Don't talk back to me, Stark," she scolded. "And I think you can, actually."

I shook my head. "No, I really can't. It was taking every ounce of my self-restraint to not walk up and punch that sorry son of a -"

"Stark!" I closed my mouth, disappointed that I wasn't able to finish my sentence. I really wanted to.

The commander took a breath, glancing down at the papers in her desk. "I saw that, cadet. And I know why you want to fight back."

"Then you know that I have to! If I don't, then-" I began to protest, but Commander Moore cut me off once again.

"And I also know that if I hadn't intervened, you would have fought back. And do you know where that would've gotten you?" she asked, leaning forward in her chair and looking straight at me. I swallowed.

"Expelled."

"Yes, expelled." Commander Moore leaned back in her chair, suddenly looking very tired. Her face seemed to have more lines on it, and her eyes didn't look nearly as bright and alive as they had before. This was how she really felt.

It was strange how some people seemed to be able to put up a mask so easily, hiding their true feelings from everyone around them.

It's not just Moore, I realized. Mark, Kim, O'Malley; they all seem to have a mask . . . Do I? And what does it take for the mask to slip off?

I sat in silence, not sure whether or not I was dismissed. But soon the Commander sat up again.

"Do you know why your brother did so well here?" she asked me, glancing to several plaques on the wall to her right. I followed her gaze, searching the names engraved on the brass before I found my brother's. Chris Stark.

That's why those cadets looked at me so weirdly, I realized, thinking back to the trainees that had passed me in the hall only a few minutes ago. They know who I am because of Chris. And who wouldn't? Chris was a legend around here. I was proud that my brother was held in such high regard, but at the same time I couldn't help but wish that I wouldn't constantly be living in his shadow.

I can't always be compared to him. I've got to make a name for myself . . .

I looked back to Moore, who continued.

"It wasn't because he was the strongest. Or the smartest. Although he was certainly up there, in those regards." I nodded. Commander Moore almost smiled, and not for the first time, I was sure that she really wanted me to do well. She actually wanted me to succeed.

Moore stood up, and I did the same, coming to the conclusion that our conversation was nearing its end. She gestured towards the door, and as I walked towards it, she left me with one final piece of advice.

"Chris did so well here because he really believed. He believed in this academy, he believed in his squadmates, and most importantly, he believed in himself." I paused as I went through the doorway and into the main hallway, lingering for a second with a question on my mind.

"What was Chris's squad like? Ma'am?" I asked. Once again, Commander Moore almost smiled.

"Very much like yours, actually."

I narrowed my eyebrows in questioning. "Was that on purpose?"

Moore turned away, striding back into her office. For a second I thought she was just going to ignore me, but then she responded with a quick look over her shoulder.

"Maybe." The door closed with a hiss.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Fidelis Squad

September 17, 2550

"Wake up, buttercup!"

I slowly opened my eyes, staring at the dark ceiling of my room. Who's shouting?

"I said wake up!" The lights flicked on and I let out a yell, diving under my covers, away from the blinding rays of pain.

"Jesus, man, what the hell are you doing?" I screamed, peeking out from my protective blanket for a split second to see who was at the door. It was Rod. No shit, Sherlock, I thought with an inward sigh. Who else would it be?

Rod walked over and pulled my covers off. I shivered as my skin was exposed to the cold air.

"We got to get moving. Today's a field day, remember?" said Rod, who, surprisingly, didn't have a stupid grin glued to his face. Then I realized what he had said, and any tiny bit of happiness inside of me died.

"Oh no," I groaned. "Damn field day. All the more reason to sleep in." I tried to take my covers from Rod, but he was adamant.

"Not unless you want to run an extra 5 laps. Around the entire academy."

I shot bolt upright. "Did O'Malley really say that?"

Rod nodded.

I sighed.

I got up . . . . and crumpled to the floor in a heap. "I can't do this, man." I moaned, putting an arm over my head.

Rod shook his head and walked out of the room. "Whatever, man."

Realizing that I really, really did not want to run an extra 5 laps, I got up and stretched.

"Running, hand-to-hand combat, running, fighting, obstacle course, running, fighting. You got a full day ahead of you, Jason Stark," I muttered to myself.

"Don't forget about the running part," I heard someone say behind me. I turned around and saw Kim. In a tank top and shorts. Really short shorts. Are those even following dress code?

I cleared my throat and quickly shifted my gaze from her thighs to her face. "Oh, yeah, I hear there's going to be a lot of that today." Kim grinned, which warmed me up. Not just because she looked . . . great, per say, but because it was the first time she had actually looked happy in a long time. After the news of her family's death, she had gone back to her old self, never interacting with the rest of the squad and never looking anything but depressed. Now, it looked like nice Kim was back. Cool Kim. Awesome Kim. Sexy Kim.

I mentally kicked myself and grimaced. Shut up, Stark!

Kim raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

"Oh, no, nothing's wrong," I assured her, leaning on one hand against the wall. "Everything's cool. Well, as cool as it can be on a day like today. A field day. Which is what today is, by the way." Smooth, idiot.

Kim gave me an amused look and waved. "See you at breakfast, Jason." I waved back as she walked off. "See you . . ."

When she was out of sight, I smacked a hand to my face. "Well that went brilliantly, Stark. Another 10 points for you."

"I heard that," yelled Kim.

I froze and groaned. "Damn . . . it." I walked over to my dresser and pulled out my field shirt and shorts. "Another great start to what will most likely be a great day!"

Although talking while running isn't exactly the most efficient (or less painfull thing to do, I found myself doing it anyway. The rest of my squad and I were discussing what our team name should be while we finished up the final lap of "Sarge's Hell of Intense Training" run, or the SHIT run for short. So far, it was living up to its name, and it was only the first time we had done it. We would have to do it twice more over the course of the day, in between bouts of hand-to-hand combat training and an obstacle course. Whoopdee fuckin' doo.

"So we're officially ruling out Awesome Squad?" asked Cody in between huge gulps of air. Ed nodded, squeezing his eyes shut for a second to focus on breathing. "Yeah, it's a stupid name." Rod jogged up beside him and gave him a hurt look.

"Hey, it took me all morning to come up with!"

"You sure it didn't take you longer? It's a pretty intelligent name, probably required a lot of thought," I joked, pulling up beside Kim and Biff, who had pretty much remained silent the entire time. Kim looked like she was trying to think, so I left her alone.

Cody cut back in the conversation. "Listen, we don't want to sound pretentious. I'm sure Mark's squad will have that covered. Our name should be something honorable." We all grunted assent. We reached the main courtyard of the academy, weaving in between the prone forms of lounging students and benches. As we approached the fountain in the center of the courtyard, which had a statue of a Greek spartan on it, Kim snapped her fingers.

"I got it!" she exclaimed. "Fidelis Squad!" We all gave her confused looks, and she sighed in disappointment. "Really? You guys don't know Latin?"

"Just tell us what it means, for Christ's sake!" Rod pleaded. "We're running a marathon here!" Kim rolled her eyes.

"It means 'loyal', simply translated." She gave us an expectant look, trying to gauge our level of approval. "Do you guys like it?"

I pondered it for a second, but before I could respond, Biff spoke up.

"I like it. It sounds honorable, like Cody said it should be. And he is our squad leader." Cody looked genuinely pleased with himself, as did Kim. Rod shot a shocked look at me.

Did he just speak? he mouthed. I shrugged. Apparently, yes.

"Then it's settled," Ed announced. "We're Fidelis Squad." A brief moment of completeness followed his words, as we all realized that we now had a name. It seemed like for the first time, we were a team.

"Fabulous," Rod panted. "But when does this thing end?" I tried to laugh, but I didn't have enough air in my lungs. Cody pointed up ahead, towards a hill right outside the courtyard. "That's the finish line!"

"Oh thank God," I cried. "Any more and I'll probably die." Kim shook her head.

"Wimps."

I reached the hill with the rest of my squad and the other cadets and fell to the ground, lying on my back and breathing in huge amounts of air to my screaming lungs. Ah, I thought. It feels so good to not be-

"Alright cadets, get off your backsides!"

I groaned. Damn O'Malley to hell!

Reluctantly, I picked myself up off the ground, leaning on my knees to continue catching my breath. O'Malley stood before all of us, arms crossed and feet spread apart in a steady, firm stance.

"Ah, yes," Rod grunted beside me, standing up to his full height. "Fightin' time."

I stood up as well, stretching my arms and legs to keep them from cramping. "Wonder how we'll do this . . ."

O'Malley waited until everyone had stood up and was facing him before continuing.

"This here is the next portion of your training," he told us, sweeping his arm behind him towards several long rows of large exercise mats. "You will be learning how to effectively and efficiently disarm and take down an enemy using only your body. This is not about fighting," he said, putting emphasis on the last word and glaring at Rod. "This is about defending yourself. Ask any martial artist and he will tell you that yes, there is a difference."

Kim nodded, totally absorbing what O'Malley was saying. She looked like she was ready to kick some major ass, either in "self-defense" or not. I feel bad for whoever has to fight her, I told myself. Unless it's Mark. In which case, I hope he gets wrecked.

"Are there any questions?" O'Malley shouted, looking over all of us for a raised hand. No one obliged. He nodded. "Good. You all seem to be learning after all. Now let's begin." He turned and walked toward the mats, and we all followed him.

"There are enough mats here for two people per mat. Partner up."

I looked to Rod, who nodded, and we walked over and claimed a mat in the center of the hill. Kim found Miley to partner with, who almost looked scared. I looked around to see who Mark was partnered with, but I couldn't find him amidst the mass of cadets.

So much for trying to gauge his skill level.

"The first thing you should know is a proper stance!" bellowed O'Malley. "Face your partner and spread your legs out a shoulder width apart. Yes, like that. Good. Now raise your hands up to your chest. Dominant hand back, other hand forward." I followed his instructions until I had assumed the complete proper fighting stance. Rod had done it well too, and he narrowed his eyes as he faced me. I grinned and did the same.

O'Malley continued. "You have to keep your knees bent. If you don't, you'll be too stiff, and your opponent will easily knock you over. Bradley's got it, right over here. Knees bent, feet spread, hands up." The sergeant rose out of the position to walk among us, checking and correcting our stances. When we all looked ready, he began to teach us the basics of UNSC hand-to-hand combat.

He told us that even though it sounded stupid, this was an art, not a science. "When you're out in the shit in the middle of a firefight, when you're so in the shit that you're not sure what's actually shit and what isn't, when you're so covered in shit that you become the shit, do you want to have to recollect the exact moves and stances of combat? Hell no! Everything needs to be natural. It needs to be ingrained in you. It needs to be you. It needs to be you more than the shit is you. And that is not science. That's art. It's the art of war, cadets."

He showed us how to engage the enemy with our bodies without getting shot to hell. How to disarm an opponent. Where to punch and kick so that it will immobilize our opponent and leave them stunned in pain. When to strike and when to retreat. How to block an oncoming attack and then how to turn the situation to your advantage.

Soon we were sweating and panting more than we had when we were running. O'Malley ran us through drill after drill after drill until we could barely stand. Then he had us rest . . . and do it all over again.

We didn't actually fight each other yet, though. "That's for later," O'Malley explained. Right now, it's about time for some more running!"

"Shit!" one of the cadets yelled.

O'Malley rounded on him and gave him a hard, slightly insane stare. "Exactly! SHIT!"

A few cadets laughed at the pun, but most of us just groaned as we all stood up and began our second round of running.

It was time for the obstacle course. A huge, sprawling mass of metal walls, ramps, ladders, pits of mud, cargo nets, rope climbs, and thorn bush runs. The monster of a course had been constructed when the academy was first built, although it was smaller than it was now. The tradition was that every year since, a new portion had been built to add on to the course. No one knew what had been constructed this year, although it probably wasn't pretty. Or maybe it was . . . in a sinister sort of way.

This was one of the few training events that actually required that each squad select two members to represent their team in order to compete. How well the cadets did was reflected in points awarded to the cadet and their teammates. The obstacle course wasn't the only event that did this; capture the flag, shooting, squad readiness and squad attentiveness were all things that gave points to squads. The Squad Leaderboards had recently been created to rank the top teams. So far, Fidelis Squad was doing well, but Mark's squad was beating us, holding the top spot.

O'Malley gathered us at the entrance to the course, which was a large archway split in half, one side for each squadmate.

"Now you must select your two members that will compete!" he barked, quieting down the excited mass of cadets with his booming voice. "I suggest that you pick your fastest, most agile squadmates for this task."

"No shit," Rod muttered. "So who are we sending?"

I shrugged and looked at Cody, who was glancing around at all of us, sizing us up.

He bit his lip, thinking hard. "If we want to select our fastest runners, that would be Kim and me." We all nodded. Rod opened his mouth to say something, but Cody held up his hand.

"But that's not all. I'm not very limber, or agile. I can sprint fine on flat ground, but while having to vault over walls and climb? No way. That's not me."

Biff nodded slowly. "A good leader understands his weaknesses."

Cody blushed for a second. "Thanks, Biff."

I stared nervously at my feet. Kim was definitely going to be one of our contestants. While she wasn't as strong as us guys, she could do as many or more push-ups as us because of her light weight. She was fast, had great stamina, and could certainly handle anything the course threw at her. Because, of course, of her determination. Or stubbornness. However you wanted to put it.

At least, let's hope anything, I thought to myself. While I wasn't our fastest, I was pretty nimble. I hadn't exactly inherited Chris' broader frame, leaving me much slimmer than him. This being said, I had a sneaking suspicion about who Cody was going to ask to be our second contestant.

"I think Jason should be our number two."

Yeah . . . no.

I looked up at everybody's faces, and took a step back. "No. No way. I'm not doing this."

Ed frowned. "Why not? You're pretty fast. And you're definitely the most nimble out of all of us, save Kim." I still shook my head.

"Look, I know that I'm one of the most fit for the job, but I'll just . . . I'll just end up . . ."

"What?" Kim asked.

"I'll probably just fuck it up, like always!" I yelled, making her recoil. She gave me an incredulous look.

"Why the hell would you think that?"

Rod intervened before I could respond. "Kim, leave him alone! And Jason, chill, man. You are the best for the task and you're going to have to do it. You want to beat Mark's squad, right?" I nodded, and Rod put a hand on my shoulder. "Then do it."

"Alright, time's up! Send up your selected cadets!" O'Malley ordered.

Kim walked up without hesitation, not even glancing back to see if I was coming or not.

I can't show weakness around her, I told myself. Especially not now. God knows she barely shows it. If not for the way she looked that day when Sarge told her that her planet had been glassed, I would've thought that she had none at all. Without me telling them to, my feet carried me forward to stand next to Kim at the starting line. She flashed me a grin.

"Knew you'd come through," she told me, kneeling on the ground in the starting position.

"How?" I asked, kneeling beside her. Her smile widened.

"Some things you just know." As O'Malley fired the starting gun, my only thought was, How does she believe in me even before I believe in myself?

Then there was nothing else I could focus on except the course. Kim darted into the left corridor, and I took the right. I took and corner and immediately sank into dense, gooey mud that reached up to my waist. Gritting my teeth, I fought through it, aiming for a thick rope at the end of the pit. The rope looked easy enough to climb, but when I grabbed it, I realized that it had been slimed with some sort of grease, making it slippery and hard to grip. But I dug in my nails and climbed, pulling myself out of the mud that tried to cling to me.

I pulled myself onto the metal platform that the rope was attached to and continued along my course. I sprinted along the platform, careful to avoid the railing-less edge, and leapt from the end of the first platform to a second. Thanking God that I wasn't afraid of heights, I continued acting like a billy goat until I reached a ladder, which I shimmied down as fast as I could.

I was faced with a realistic rock wall, complete with mist that drifted from the ceiling to make the rock slick. My heart sank. Nimble though I was, climbing never had been my thing. I was better at . . . scrambling. Or better yet, avoiding the obstacle completely. Nevertheless, I grabbed ahold of the slippery rock and hoisted myself. Surprisingly, I encountered little difficulty until something in the rock stabbed out and sucker-punched me in the gut. I gasped in shock as, simultaneously, my body jerked at the blow. Both my feet and my right hand slipped the rock and I dangled by the left hand, trying to catch my breath while clinging desperately to my handhold.

Ah shit, I thought. Come on, Stark, haul yourself up!

I really didn't want to fall the 30 feet to the ground. Gritting my teeth, I swung out with my right hand, trying to reclaim some sort of grip. My palm scraped against the jagged stone and I sucked in a breath as it cut gashes. My left hand was about to give out - now or never. I swung again and managed to grab a small handhold with the tips of my fingers. I adjusted my grip and breathed again as I found footholds. I scrambled up the rock face, and sighed in relief as I pulled myself onto the top. The sight that greeted me as I stood almost made me cry. I wasn't yet halfway through.

"Oh my god," I sighed as I looked below me. A small pool of water sat directly beneath me, at the base of the rock wall.

Dive, dive, dive, I told myself. And I jumped.

Quickly I assumed a pencil dive position, clamping my legs together and crossing my arms over my chest. I managed to squeeze my eyes shut right before I hit the water.

My body spasmed as I was submerged in the coldest liquid I had ever felt, which was strange because I couldn't feel anything. My arms shot upwards and my feet did little flutter kicks as I desperately searched the edge of the pool.

Holy SHIT this is cold!

My numb fingers found a metal rung, wrapping around it but not feeling it. I pulled myself out, spitting out water in huge mouthfuls and shaking uncontrollably as I sank to the ground. Standing up was not an option: I was just too cold. Too numb.

Come on! I urged myself. Just get up! What would Kim think of you?

I groaned, hating myself for bringing Kim into this. Why can't I just rest here?

Because this is being timed! And losing to Mark cannot happen!

But-

No buts! Pull yourself together and get on with it!

I punched the metal floor, which brought feeling back into my hand, along with a huge amount of pain. I jumped up and began to rub myself vigorously, looking around for my next obstacle. I saw a narrow corridor in front of me, and I ran towards it, not even waiting to make sure it was-

THUNK! A metal pole shot out of the wall at foot level, tripping me and sending me falling to the ground. I landed flat on my face, like an idiot.

"Goddamn!" I yelped as I stood up feeling my face and continuing to run. My nose was bleeding, and my chin was scraped badly.

"Could've been worse," I muttered to myself, just as another pole shot out of the other wall, this time at stomach level. My eyes widened as I dodged it awkwardly, sidestepping and barely managing to keep myself upright.

Now shut up and focus on NOT failing, I encouraged myself.

The hall seemed to stretch on forever as I continued to dodge, duck, jump, and weave my way around the poles that viciously attacked me. I got hit a few more times in the arm and the leg, leaving behind nasty bruises and small gashes. Sweat began to obstruct my vision as it fell into my eyes, which made them sting, like I had gotten a wave of saltwater thrown in them. Nevertheless, I ran onwards.

Just as it seemed that the hallway would never end, I made out a break in the usual white-gray wall that surrounded me. Up ahead it looked like the course spread out into a wider area, and, thank god, seemed to contain no more damned poles. I allowed myself a sigh of relief as soon as I cleared the final pole, one that came out at chest level. Thinking quickly, I dropped to my knees, using my remaining momentum to propel myself forward in a knee-slide underneath the pole.

I slid to stop a few feet into the next room, which was indeed larger than the hall. A lot larger.

The room was wide, but long, not exactly square. The same high walls marked the perimeter, and the same cold floor was at my feet. On the other end of the room, I could see a door; one that lead straight outside, and I could hear people talking excitedly from it. This was the last obstacle. I stood there for a second, only a second, as I took it all in, waiting for something to pop out at me. A pit, a wall, a maze - something.

I frowned. Absolutely nothing was happening. I took a tentative step forward, then another, then another . . . but the room remained still.

Something's up, I thought, beginning to run for the other side of the room. Something's going to happen, and it's probably going to fuck me up.

And something did. Right as I got about halfway down the room, I heard a scraping sound. I looked up to my right and saw that a row of panels near the top of the wall were sliding back, with small black mechanisms popping out of the holes left behind. The same was happening to my left.

What the-

Just as I figured out what was happening, a gunshot rang through the room, reverberating off of the metal walls. A searing pain entered my upper arm, causing me to gasp and stumble in pain.

"Guns?!" I shouted in disbelief, not comprehending why the fuck I was being shot at with live rounds in training. I kept running, reaching over to my arms and expecting to feel warm, sticky blood gushing from a bullet hole. It was sticky, but it wasn't warm, and it wasn't blood. That much I could tell, but I wasn't ready to do a full examination while I was being shot at.

More of the guns began to fire, peppering the ground around me with tiny explosions of whatever it was they were shooting. I dodged incoming shots and ran in zigzags, but I was still being hit in the chest, legs, arms, and back. Every wound stung, but after the initial pain faded, a numb feeling overcame the spot where the bullets hit. It was so powerful that I found myself moving slower and slower with each step, lurching more than running.

I looked around desperately for some sort of cover, but there was none. Just a long, empty room with a door at the end. I ran as fast as I could, trying to block out the stings and overcome the numbness.

The door drew closer and closer, and soon I was on autopilot, looking straight ahead at my destination as my mind just went blank. Soon everything felt numb, and no thoughts entered or left my empty mind.

I threw myself through the doorway with my last ounce of strength, flying a few feet through the air and then landing on the grass, past the finish line. I heard people shouting and clapping, and I felt someone shaking me as I laid there motionless. But my vision was blurry, and I could feel myself losing consciousness, until I finally drifted off.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Things Are Looking Up

Reach, September 17, 2550

My eyes opened slowly, gradually letting in light as I began to wake up, and then promptly snapped shut as way too much light blasted it's way into my head. I began the process again, this time turning over to try and block out some of the -

THUD! I fell off whatever I was laying on, instantly opening my eyes and shooting out my arms reflexively as I slammed into the ground. I was about to cry out in pain, except I felt none.

Still numb, I realized. Damn bullets still haven't worn off, whatever they were.

I heard someone gasp and feet running over to me. Groaning, I pushed myself up and tried to stand, but ended up falling over again, grabbing the side of my cot, which is what I had been laying on, to steady myself.

"Careful," said a tender voice from behind. A hand touched my shoulder and another wrapped around my back to help lift me up. I stood up slowly, my legs shaking still relying on the stranger and the wall to keep me upright.

"Just take it easy," the stranger said again, and I realized that it wasn't a stranger; it was Kim, I turned around to face her but did it too quickly, once again sending me stumbling to the ground. Kim caught me with a grunt and hauled me up again, leaning me against the wall.

"I said take it easy, smart one," she sighed, letting go of my shoulders as I regained balance enough to stand up on my own. I realized as she let go that my heart had been beating faster when she was touching me.

Stop! I told myself. Don't think like that. She was just helping you. And although that was true, that didn't mean I wasn't a little doubtful. Or was it hopeful?

I shrugged. "Never was an fast learner." I looked around me and figured out that I was in a nurse's office, in the medical bay. It seemed to be filled with fairly standard stuff, except there was no nurse.

Now that I was facing Kim, I could see that she was as fucked up as I was. I couldn't feel any of my wounds, but I knew they were there. Her face and arms were marked with scrapes and bruises, with a particularly nasty cut on her shoulder. Small welts covered her exposed skin, probably the result of the bullets that had hit us in the last hallway.

I raised an eyebrow. "You've looked better." She laughed slightly.

"I would say the same to you, but honestly, I think the inconceivable amount of welts on you will speak for themselves. Eventually."

"So you know that I can't feel anything?" I asked, and she nodded.

"Mainly because I feel the same way," she explained. I opened my mouth to ask her another question, but she cut me off.

"Before you ask, they were stun rounds. The things that were hitting us in the last room. They sting like hell when they hit you and then numb you up so you can't feel anything."

I frowned, confused. "Why would numbing us -"

"Because we only got hit with weak ones," Kim said, cutting me off again before I could finish my sentence. I closed my mouth in annoyance, apparently making some sort of face, because Kim made one back.

"They're the rounds we'll all be shooting during capture the flag and our combat simulations." She walked over to another cot and sat down. "Except then, they'll be more powerful. A few shots should completely stun you."

I sighed, looking up and down my body at all of the welts I had accumulated, realizing as I did so that my shirt was off.

I felt my cheeks flush as I looked back to Kim, who was just sitting there like this was completely normal "Um, where's the uh . . ."

"The nurse?" she finished, and I nodded. She hopped off of her cot and walked over to the door, glancing out of the glass pane in the center. "She left to go get something. I brought you here after you passed out, and she told me to take your shirt off -" She took my shirt off? "- and lay you on the cot. She said she'd be back in a few minutes." I nodded slowly, only half listening to Kim as I looked around desperately for my shirt. Kim turned back to me, and I stopped looking, returning my attention to her. She raised an eyebrow.

"Need something?"

I assumed a confused expression. "What? Oh, um, no, not really. I was just wondering if you had my . . . " I trailed off as Kim walked over to a table and lifted up my shirt.

"Ah, yes, that," I said, catching the shirt in midair as Kim tossed it to me. I quickly pulled it over my head.

"It's not like I haven't seen a guy without his shirt on before," she laughed as I popped my head through the shirt hole. I raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" She cocked her head slightly.

"Please, of course I have."

I shrugged and slowly inched my way off my cot. "Well sorry for not assuming that you've . . . you know . . ."

Now it was Kim's turn to look confused. "What? Oh, geez, no, not like that! No, I just meant that I . . . Well, I did have two brothers."

"Uh huh."

She rolled her eyes. "Stop being such a child, Stark. You could've at least acted normal."

I shook my head as I made my way over to the table. "No, I was the one acting normal. I didn't exactly feel very comfortable being alone in a room with a girl, half-naked."

Kim laughed. "Well when you say it like that, it just sounds -"

She was cut off by the sound of the door opening. We both looked up to see the nurse walk in. She was an older woman, and waddled in with a holotablet in her hand.

"Ah, you're up!" she exclaimed brightly as she saw me. I half-smiled and opened my mouth to speak, but she continued. "You two having fun in here?"

Both Kim and I began to protest, talking over the other. "What? No!" "Not like that!"

The nurse swatted a hand as she walked over to me, quieting us down. "Oh hush now, I didn't mean like that! You young ones, always taking everything so seriously!"

I glanced over at Kim, who rolled her eyes. I nodded assent as the nurse began to administer a basic check-up.

"You got pretty banged up out there. The obstacle course has a habit of doing that to cadets, even after their first time through."

My eyes widened. "The first time through? You mean we have to do it again?" The nurse nodded.

"Of course! You'll probably keep doing it once every week or so until your final assessment at the end of the year. It's part of the daily work out." I groaned as she typed something in on her tablet. "I'll probably be seeing more of all of you in the upcoming weeks. Thank god I'm not the only one here."

She told me that the numbness would wear off in a few hours, and that when it did I should take a dose of the medicine that she then gave me.

"You'll hurt, but don't take too much," she warned. "Good luck!"

"Thanks," I said. "I'll be needing it."

"This here, cadets, is the MA5 Individual Combat Weapon System. It is the standard issue assault rifle for all UNSC forces, and has been so for many, many years." Sergeant O'Malley held the gun up in the air so we could all see. It was finally time to begin the shooting portion of our training, something that Rod and I had been looking forward to for a long while. Our entire class was gathered at the shooting range, which was basically a sectioned off portion of the training field near the forest border. We all were facing O'Malley, whose back was to a large, open rectangular pavilion with a concrete floor. Rod was standing beside me, and when he laid eyes on the gun that O'Malley held up, a huge grin spread over his face. He nudged me in the ribs.

"Can't wait to get my hands on one of those," he said excitedly, barely holding himself together. I laughed.

"Geez, Rod, calm down. It's just a gun, after all." Rod nodded.

"Exactly."

"This is the gun you will begin training with today," O'Malley continued, holding the weapon close to his chest as if reluctant to hand it over. "Divide into squads."

We all followed his command, assuming our normal positions among our squadmates.

O'Malley paced back and forth, laying the gun over his shoulder. "The squad currently leading in points will shoot first. That would be Magnus Squad." I glanced over at Mark's squad. Mark was their squad leader, and he stood proudly in front of his squad as their name was called. He shot me a smug look.

Rod nudged me again. "Magnus? What the hell -"

"It means 'great' in Latin," Kim interjected, sticking her head between Rod's and mine. "Mighty, powerful; that sort of stuff." Rod snorted.

"Looks like they've developed a bit of an ego."

She shrugged. "They are in first place."

"That's no reason to get all uppity on us!" he protested. I rolled my eyes. "It's kind of the only reason."

"At least we picked a humble name," Rod said, quickly lowering his voice as O'Malley continued, giving instructions to Magnus Squad on how to handle the firearms.

I nodded. "I'm actually kind of proud of it."

O'Malley's booming voice silenced me immediately. "Alright, Fidelis Squad next!"

I perked my head up, realizing he had called our squad up. Cody looked over his shoulder at all of us, nodded, and walked forward to the front of the crowd. O'Malley lead us over to the long table that bore the six assault rifles, and gestured for us to pick them up. We lined up along the firing line, each of us a few feet apart.

"First rule of firearms safety: keep your gun pointed in a safe direction," he instructed. "Safe directions include the ground, up in the air, and downrange. Point your firearm any other place and I will personally arrange your room in hell after I kick you so hard you fly into space." He pointed his own gun down at the ground. We followed suit, holding the gun with two hands at turning it at an angle so that the muzzle pointed at the concrete slab we were standing on.

"Second rule: keep your little grubby finger off the trigger until you are ready to fire!" At this, we all moved our fingers off of the trigger, except for Kim, whose finger had remained on the grip the entire time. Hmph.

"Third rule: keep your gun unloaded until you are ready to fire." O'Malley placed his gun down and held up a clip of ammunition. "7.62x51mm ammunition. 32 rounds per magazine." He passed out the clips, one for each of us.

"This rifle is a bullpup design, so it is fed from behind the trigger." O'Malley lifted his gun up so that the muzzle was pointed up at the roof, exposing a slot just behind the grip where the magazine was pushed into. We loaded our guns and then pointed them downrange at the metal targets that stood twenty-five yards away.

O'Malley then put down his gun and walked up to Cody, who was closest to him. "Hold the gun up with two hands and push the stock firmly into your shoulder, just like that." He walked down the line, correcting our stances and grips, until we were ready.

"On my mark, fire. You'll feel a bit of a kick then. Or perhaps a bit more than a bit. Those of you who keep the stock against your shoulder will get rocked a bit. Those of you who push it away from yourself will get the shit kicked out of you." Rod let out a quiet laugh. Instantly, O'Malley rounded on him.

"YOU THINK THAT'S FUNNY, CADET?!" he shouted right into Rod's face. Rod looked taken aback, but he still had a trace of a smile on his face.

"Um, a bit. Sir."

"AND WHY WOULD THAT BE?"

"Surely the kick can't be that bad. Right?" O'Malley's face twisted into a knowing grin. I didn't like that grin. I wanted to beg Rod to shut up for once, but he wouldn't have have listened even if I did.

"Why don't you demonstrate then, cadet?" Rod grinned, pushing the stock against his shoulder and aiming at the target. He breathed in. He breathed out. Then he squeezed the trigger.

But he pushed the rifle away from himself. I suppose if you know it's going to kick, you want it to be as far from yourself as possible. The rifle gave a deafening BANG and hit Rod hard in the shoulder. Down he went, right onto his ass. The look on his face was utterly priceless. In fact, the only ones who refrained from laughing were Cody and Kim. Cody offered Rod his hand with a sympathetic smile, and Rod grinned sheepishly up at him.

"Now let that be a lesson to you!" bellowed O'Malley. "ON MY MARK!" Instantly, we turned and aimed at the metal targets twenty-five yards away. I was in between Kim and Cody, but not paying attention to either of them. For once. I was entirely focused on the rifle. I knew where I wanted the shot to go. I knew how it would get there. In theory, it would, right?

Ha ha.

"FIRE!" The air was suddenly full of loud BANGs, mine among them. Then several THUDs as people fell from the force of the kick. The rifle slammed back into my shoulder, hard, but I kept my stance flexible and it rocked me, nothing more. Of course, Rod fell over again, and so did Ed, looking rather hilarious with his bemused expression.

Once the air was still again, O'Malley ordered us to place the rifles on the floor next to us. Not taking any chances, I suppose.

He walked to the targets. Most people had missed. He came to Mark, who had actually hit it, and gave him a nod of approval. Cody had hit it too. A nod for him. I held my breath as he approached my target, my stomach clenching in anticipation. Then O'Malley turned and nodded at me. I let a small smile drift onto my face, a smile of pride, then watched the sergeant with interest as he approached Kim's target.

O'Malley stood there.

And stared.

And stared.

Then he turned to Kim. "Cadet!" he shouted, and Kim flinched almost imperceptibly. "Have you handled a firearm before joining the Marines?"

"No, sir," she answered with confidence, raising her chin. "This was my first time holding a weapon of any kind." O'Malley stared at her now. It had become an uncomfortable silence by the time he opened his mouth again, and when he did, Kim's face tensed, as if she was preparing for a lecture. A very loud lecture.

"You have the makings of one of the best sharpshooters this academy has ever seen, Kimberly Barrett," he finished almost gently, to everybody's surprise.

Kim blushed very faintly. "Thank you, sir."

"BUT AS FOR THE REST OF YOU," he shouted. "YOU CALL YOURSELVES CADETS?!" And after that it was business as usual. But just after the lesson, I jogged over to Kim's target. And stared just like O'Malley.

The bullet mark was dead center.

I stared after Kim as she left the room, chatting happily with Rod. It seemed like there was a lot more to her than I'd previously realized.

I knew trouble was coming when Mark came over during mess hour, flanked by two other cadets of the Magnus Squad. He stood over Kim, who sat at the end of the table, casting a shadow over her. She looked up, her face angry already.

"Something on your mind, Mark? Spit it out, then." Her words sounded almost resigned, like she knew that he was going to do something.

"How did you do it?" His voice was very, very quiet, and that scared me far more than yelling and insults did.

"Do what?" Kim challenged, standing. She was a full head shorter than Mark. The mess hall was dead silent as people noticed the faceoff.

"Cheat," Mark answered softly. "I know you don't have a good enough arm to hit that target, much less hit it dead center. You're too weak." He feinted towards her, as if he was going to hit her, and she flinched. That made him laugh softly.

I realized that when the two of them had been together, he'd hit her.

"You don't know a thing about me," Kim hissed in a low, deadly voice. Mark wasn't put off by the death stare this time. He was too angry. And he had backup.

"How did you do it?" he demanded, louder.

"I didn't cheat, you idiot!" she shouted, rising onto her toes to get into his face.

Face twisted with rage, Mark backhanded Kim across the face, making her fall hard into the table with the force of it. Her face hit the edge of the table, and there was an audible snap before her nose started gushing blood. That jolted me into action. I jumped up from my seat and ran to where Kim lay sprawled on the floor, pinching her nose. I sensed the rest of my squad forming a protective wall in between Mark and us.

"Kim," I said urgently. "Kim, are you okay?"

"Fine," she answered shortly, and that one word was so full of outrage that I shivered. I reached out a hand to help her up, but she shrugged me off, standing herself. She pushed in between Rod and Cody until she was right in front of Mark again.

"You want me to tell this whole hall what this is about?" Kim cried. She didn't wait for an answer. "You were this little, insignificant boy back home, so you beat up on your girlfriend - on me - to make yourself feel better. And it did! I was afraid of you, and that made you feel powerful. You think you're so great? You're still a little, pathetic, insignificant boy, Marcus Jonathan Tybalt! I am not afraid of you anymore, and I never will be. You have lost. So shut the fucking hell up!" The hall rang with her words, and I was shocked to see her green eyes glimmering with a liquid that looked suspiciously like tears. She looked pretty badass with her nose still pouring blood and black eyes blooming on her face.

I don't know who started it, but someone started clapping. Soon the hall was filled with all the cadets - except Magnus Squad - were standing there, applauding, with idiotic grins on our faces. Kim was smiling slightly, too, but it looked like she was in a lot of pain.

"Come on," I said, tugging on her arm. "Let's get you to the infirmary."

"Yep, she's broken her nose," the nurse said, moving away from Kim after applying a small brace to her nose, which caused her to groan.

"This is going to be great," she grumbled. "Just great. Going through training with a broken bone! What could be better?"

Ed, who had helped me take Kim to the infirmary, cleared his throat a bit. "Actually, it's cartilage. Not bone." Kim gave him the death stare, silencing him, and then turned to me.

"What's the next thing we're doing with O'Malley?"

I thought for a second before answering. "I think he said it was capture the flag."

"Shit," Kim swore under her breath. The nurse, the same one we had met with after the obstacle course, rolled her eyes.

"Must you be so vulgar, young lady?" Kim didn't respond. The nurse gave me a look, which confused me.

"You should make sure she stops it," she told me, picking up a clipboard and scribbling something on it quickly. I glanced at Kim, who was raising an eyebrow, as if to say, Try and make me. Then the nurse handed me a small container of pills. "And make sure she takes these every night to relieve the pain."

I laughed nervously. "Um, I'm not really in any position to-"

The nurse huffed. "I would think that a poor girl's boyfriend would at least want the best for her!" My face flushed instantly, and I could see that Kim's did too.

"Oh, um, she's not my-" I stopped, fumbling with the words in my embarrassment. "What I mean is, I'm not her, uh, boyfriend. We're not together, actually. At all." The nurse chuckled, turning to leave.

"Well, then, that better get fixed soon." And with that, she left.

I sighed, not daring to look at Kim. Ed was standing in the corner, his body shaking from controlled laughter. I shook my head, and shoved the container of pills at him.

"You're our squad's medic; you give her the pills every night." Ed nodded, his body finally still, except for the twitching smile glued to his face.

"Yes sir," Ed quipped, giving me a mock-salute and then leaving the same way the nurse had. I turned back to Kim, whose face was still red. I could feel my cheeks burning, so I knew mine was too. Stupid body always betraying my emotions.

Neither of us said a word for a while, until Kim stood up, and to my surprise looked slightly offended. "Why didn't you want to give me the pills?" she demanded, and I took a step back, even more confused than before.

"Wait, what? I just thought that-"

"You don't have to be such a kid about it!" she snapped, temper flaring for a moment. I shrank back, hurt. What the hell?

Kim's face flushed red again, suddenly looking embarrassed again, and then strode out of the room in a huff.

"Girls!" I exploded, kicking the edge of a cot hard. "What the hell? One second they're all embarrassed, the next they're pleased, and then they're ready to kick the shit out of you! What's she really mad about? Is it seriously pills? Such a stupid thing to be mad about!" I stormed around the infirmary, my face thunderous, for a few minutes before flopping down on a cot, my arm thrown across my face to block out the light.

"I hate my life," I muttered.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Why me?

Reach, September 17, 2550

I just stood there in the infirmary for a moment, then decided no. No, I wouldn't let Kim storm away again. That was definitely a character flaw of hers that had to be remedied.

I threw open the door and looked down the hall. Kim was just turning a corner, and I ran to catch up with her. "Kim!" I called. I could practically taste her fury, but she let me catch up.

"What?" she grumbled. Her voice sounded weird. She was staring at the ground, and she was so tense. Anger? It didn't seem like anger to me anymore. I leaned in to get a look at her face, and then I understood. Well, sort of. She was crying.

"Um. You okay?" I asked, sounding completely and utterly lame. Obviously if she was crying, she wasn't okay. Kim dashed the tears away as if she were angry at herself. For letting me see her tears? For showing me that she was human?

"Fine," she snapped.

"Look, ah . . . I'm sorry about the pills thing. I mean, I was just kind of at a loss for words, and, um . . ." I trailed off, lame again. I felt an embarrassed flush heating up my face, but Kim seemed to appreciate the effort. She gave me a tiny smile, relaxing a little, previous anger already gone. Girls and their mood swings.

"No, I should be the one apologizing," she admitted. I felt my mouth drop open. "It's not your fault I'm angry."

That's a first. "Why are you mad?" I asked curiously. Immediately, I felt her shield go up. Her shoulders tensed.

"It's a . . . long story," Kim sighed, reaching up to twist her hair around her fingers again. Why do girls do that? I found the motion hard to look away from. A nervous habit. Another thing proving she was just as human as the rest of us. I smiled to myself. Humanity. A complicated concept, sometimes horrific, sometimes wondrous. But that's what we are.

"We've got the walk back to the barracks, and the thirty minutes till lights-out. That long enough for you?"

She smiled grudgingly. "I suppose." Then her face settled back into the worry, sadness, and loneliness that she seemed so familiar with, and it occurred to me that perhaps Kim's mask was her anger. It kept everyone from seeing how lonely and broken this girl really was. "Where do I start . . .?"

"The beginning?" I suggested innocently, and she shoved me playfully.

"All right, smartass. The beginning it is. I was born on Signus IV. Lived there my whole life, until this, obviously. I went to primary school with a few other kids - our planet had dangerous terrain, and few people wanted to settle there. One of those kids was Mark. Another was this guy named James. Then, of course, there were my older brothers, Kendall and Jordan, and my older sister, Molly. They, ah . . . well, I think they loved me, but they never . . . showed it."

"What?" I asked, bewildered, as we turned a corner. Chris and I'd had our scrapes, of course, but I knew that he was my brother. I'd die for him. And I knew, in my heart, that he'd do the same for me. How could Kim say she thought they loved her?

She swallowed hard, and I knew then that it wasn't just sibling rivalry or something like that. She really didn't know. "Um . . . Let me give you an example," she decided. "Our parents took us for a hike was I was six. Molly and Jordan were ten. Kendall was fourteen. The mountain we hiked up had really jagged rocks. Seriously, we had to wear thick-soled shoes so that the rocks didn't cut into our feet. When we reached the top, my siblings decided it would be amusing to push me off the mountain." I felt my face go slack with utter shock and horror.

"Did they?" I could not speak above a whisper.

"Yes, they did. Lots of gashes. One of them required twelve stitches." Kim pulled back her hair and there, smooth skin was interrupted by a painful-looking scar that followed her hairline, behind her ear, and down her neck. Based on her description of the rocks, she could have died. Without thinking, I touched it with one finger, and Kim flinched almost violently away from me. I had to remember who I was interacting with. A lonely girl who had been abused by her siblings, abused by her boyfriend. My god, I thought. How much pain can she go through before she's broken beyond repair? How strong must she be, living with memories burned into her mind and cut into her body? And yet, Kim didn't strike me as someone who would appreciate pity.

"I'm sorry," I said with feeling, not just apologizing for touching her scar. I drew away from her. "Go on."

"My parents cared about me in their own way, but they never listened to me when I complained about my siblings. They always thought I had an accident, or that it wasn't on purpose. I knew better. Whenever something went wrong, it was always my fault. It just was." She took several deep breaths, and I watched in awe as she mastered her emotions. "When I was fifteen, Mark asked me out. He was - and is - obviously really attractive, and 'gentlemanly' towards me. But it was all an act. When he asked me out for our twentieth date - or something - I told him I couldn't. I was going for a walk or something with James, who I'd always been friends with. That time, he slapped me. The next time I turned him down, he blacked my eye. It got progressively worse until he gave me a minor concussion by shoving me - I hit a windowsill as I went down. The next day, James asked me what had happened, and I said something lame like, 'I fell down.' He joked about how my hair still looked good, and Mark heard him. My boyfriend broke my best friend's arm. That was when I dumped him, and also when I began training for the Marines. I thought I'd be rid of him, and my family too, but he followed me here. And now my family is dead. I never got to tell them I'm sorry."

"For what?" I demanded in disbelief, noticing in some small part of my mind that we'd reached the barracks. What could she owe these people she called her family?

"For not being the person they wanted me to be," Kim answered in a whisper, then she whirled around and fled into her room.

I stood there for a moment before making my way to my own room. I fell into a chair, still pondering Kim's words. What person did they want her to be? Maybe nobody else than she was. Maybe she just thought it was her fault because they told her so. She'd been abused since a very young age, after all. But still . . .

"I wouldn't want her to be anyone else," I said aloud, staring at the gray ceiling.

First sign of madness, Jason Stark. Talking to yourself about a girl that clearly isn't ready for any sort of relationship. With anyone. A girl you just happen to be crazy about. Why me?

I glared at the ceiling for a while longer before sighing.

Why me isn't the right question. Why her?

I couldn't go a few minutes without recalling the talk I had with Kim near the infirmary. I hadn't realized it then, but that was probably the most revealing thing I've ever done with her, or anyone really. Not that way. Damn dirty minds.

I just realized that before then, I had really known nothing about Kim. I had suspected that something had happened to her in the past, something really bad. Just not as bad as it turned out to have been. Shit happens to everyone, no matter who you are or where you are in life. But I can't help thinking that some people just get too much shit sometimes. Too much too often. Kim was one of those people.

Rod began to notice my unusually quiet and somber demeanor, as did the rest of my squad. Cody even pulled me aside during a training exercise to ask me what has going on. I couldn't tell him, of course. What Kim had told me was definitely not up for public consumption. It stayed private, something only shared between her and me. I just told Cody that it was nothing serious, and that I would shape up.

"I know, Jason," he had said. "Just make when you do, you keep it that way. I have no desire to lose to Mark, and if we want to beat him, let alone keep our current position, we all have to shape up."

Despite his words, I found that I really wasn't improving. I couldn't focus during classes, I fell behind while we all ran laps, my aim was off when we were at the shooting range, and I was doing poorly at both the obstacle course and hand-to-hand combat practice.

Which meant that I felt seriously screwed on a certain field day in September, when Mark had to show off his bastardy-ness once again.

"Who do you pick, cadet?"

I snapped out of my daze, expecting to be stared at by the other cadets as O'Malley impatiently waited for my answer to his question. We had all just finished our standard hand-to-hand combat drills when O'Malley had told us to gather around a large circular mat in the center of our training area. He had begun to explain that we would now start practicing fighting each other when I had drifted off, thinking about what had happened with Kim. Then O'Malley started shooting off questions like a machine gun, obviously looking to embarrass me, assuming he had noticed that I wasn't paying attention.

But he wasn't actually talking to me, much to my relief. He was talking to Mark, who responded with. "Jason Stark."

Not much to my relief.

I stood there for a second, not totally sure why Mark had just said my name.

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked stupidly. Some of the cadets snickered as O'Malley rolled his eyes. At least he wasn't yelling at me. He had begun to act a little calmer as time went on. Relatively speaking.

"Mark Tybalt has chosen to fight you, Stark. So get your ass up here and show us if you've learned anything over the past weeks."

Rod patted me on the shoulder. "You got this. Just beat the shit out of him. It shouldn't be that hard." I nodded, only somewhat agreeing. Ed smiled reassuringly at me, as if he thought I'd actually do well.

He's in for a sorry surprise.

The crowd of cadets in front of me parted to let me through, and I started to approach the mat. I saw Kim out of the corner of my eye and shot her a glance, which she held, but only for a little while. Her eyes revealed nothing, and her face was as blank as ever. We hadn't talked much since the infirmary, but I was sure she'd start acting normal soon. She had yet to really do that.

What does she want me to do? I thought. Does she want me to beat the shit out of him? I kept walking, reaching the mat and looking straight at Mark. He was calm on the outside, but I could tell that he was holding back something terrible. His eyes gave away the fiery rage he really felt; they burned with hate, yet also gleamed with . . . excitement? Joy?

Yep. He's going to enjoy this.

I stepped onto the mat and removed my boots. Mark and I held eye contact, neither of us flinching or blinking until O'Malley spoke again.

"Ready positions!" I drew my fists up in front of me and bent my knees, right foot back, left forward. Mark mimicked my movements, a mirror image of my stance.

"Steady . . ." O'Malley growled. I felt my heart beat faster and faster with each second that I stood there, waiting for Mark to attack. I had seen him during training, and he was good. Relentless, really.

"Steady . . ." Why did Mark choose me? Was he too afraid to fight Kim after what she said to him in the cafeteria? Would he really be that easily intimidated?

No . . . he just really hates me. But why me? Is it really because of -

"FIGHT!"

Before I could move an inch, Mark attacked. Within a split second he had launched himself across the mat and was right in front of me, shouting, his leg drawn back for a kick.

I barely had time to counter it, ducking beneath the blur of a kick as he tried to go straight for a knockout blow to the head. I tucked and rolled past Mark, coming up behind him. Just as I stood, though, he was on the attack again.

His fist shot out at me like lighting, catching me straight in the chest. I stumbled back with a shout, a burst of pain exploding from my ribs. Not even giving me time to recover, Mark's leg shot out and hit me in the side, causing me to fall right into another blow, and then another, and another, and another.

I was like his personal human punching bag. Each punch and kick sent me reeling, but he never put enough force behind his blows to knock me over. He didn't want to beat me. He wanted to beat me. O'Malley had said not to let yourself become so fueled by rage that you become reckless. Well, rage and reckless seem to be working for Mark just fine.

I tried fighting back, but I was too hesitant in my attacks, unsure whether or not I should go all out. What if I just looked like a monster to Kim? What if I seemed no better than Mark? I kept trying to dodge Mark's blows, but I couldn't duck and weave forever. He ran straight at me and got me in a headlock, then grabbed my arm and pulled it behind me, like he was going to break it. I gasped as searing stabs of pain shot out from my arm and up my shoulder. I could feel tears forming in my eyes.

"No bone-breaking!" I heard O'Malley yell. Mark let go of me and shoved me forward, waiting until I had regained my balance before raining down blow upon blow.

Come on, Stark! I yelled at myself. This has gone on long enough!

The next time Mark's fist shot out, I managed to dodge it, sidestepping and spinning around to elbow him in the jaw. He saw it coming, and so I only glanced him. Even so, I could see he was angry that I got a hit in on him. He grabbed my arm and backhanded me across the face, his nails leaving scars across my cheek. I yelled in pain as my sweat dipped into the cuts, making them burn like little incisions of fire. Mark followed up with a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of me and sending me crumpling to the ground in a heap.

"That's quite enough!" O'Malley barked. I laid with my face pressed against the mat, now warm with sweat and blood, my eyes screwed shut with pain. I felt Mark kneel down next to me, and his breath felt heavy on my neck as he spoke.

"No bitch to protect you now, Stark," he mocked. I grimaced as a new, fresh wave of pain and nausea overwhelmed me, still unable to move or speak.

"Do you know what I've done here?" Mark asked. "I've made you look pathetic. Worthless. First you pass out from the course, and now you get beaten to a shit in front of everyone. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to break you. I'll break Kim, too. You just wait and see." I managed to open my eyes just a little bit and lift my head up enough to see Mark standing victorious over me, arousing cheering and clapping - and not just from Magnus Squad. Mark was only a few feet away, his back to me. O'Malley looked like he was about to say something to him, but he stopped mid-sentence and waited. I could've sworn he looked at me.

I tried to look around at the crowd of cadets, but I could barely turn my head. Kim was nowhere in sight. My head fell down as the cheering continued.

I heard Mark yell back to me: "Too bad you didn't win for your little cunt! She would've been too much of a pussy to fight me herself anyways!"

Rage filled me, and I felt myself physically heat up. I couldn't take this. Not all of it, and not right now.

I realized, right then and there, that it doesn't matter what Kim thought. I couldn't dictate every move I made based on what Kim would think of me. Right now, this was me and him. I had to make my own decision, based on what I wanted to do. And right now, I wanted to beat the shit out of Mark.

My arms extended, and I began to push myself up from the mat. My stomach felt like it would burst, my face was dripping with blood, and every part of my body ached in pain. I got on my hands and knees, and I could hear the cheering beginning to die down as everyone around realized what I was doing. Slowly, painfully, I pushed off of the ground, standing up on both feet, back straight, fists clenched. The crowd of cadets was dead silent, and Mark turned to face me. I saw his face go slack as he saw me stand up, pull back my fist and drive it forward into his jaw.

The crowd gasped as he stumbled back, and some began to yell as they saw that Mark's lip was bleeding. I took a step towards him as he reached up to touch his swollen, cut lip, looking at the blood like it couldn't exist. He looked up at me, his eyes burning with even more hate than before. He let out a cry, then charged at me with all of his speed.

Then I understood why rage would eventually betray someone, and why recklessness would get them killed. Mark ran at me, with nothing held back, without even stopping to assess the situation. Brute force wouldn't win this time. This time, I was ready.

Just as Mark reached me, his arm pulled back for a huge punch, I turned my body sideways so that Mark's fist sailed right past me. I grabbed his outstretched arm, jerking him to a halt, and stuck out my elbow so that his head ran right into it. A sickening crack accompanied his cry of pain, and I shoved him backwards as blood gushed from his nose.

"You son of a bitch!" he yelled in disbelief as he he beheld what I had done to him. "You broke my nose!" Just then I noticed Kim in the crowd, but I wasn't searching her for emotions.

"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth -" I whispered just loud enough for Mark to hear. I looked back to him just in time to see him launch a kick at me, trying to catch me off guard. I caught his foot, twisted it, forcing him to flip over onto the mat with a shout. I was on top of him in half a second.

I looked into his eyes, and I now only saw shock. He couldn't believe what I had done.

Good.

" - a nose for a nose," I finished in a deadly whisper. Mark said nothing, his mouth clenched tight in a defiant scowl. I stood up and looked at O'Malley, who merely stood there with his arms crossed. I walked off of the mat, the crowd once again parting to make way for me. But this time, it was in respect.

Kim stared at me, and I felt myself shrink back just a little. Sure, I had to make my own decisions now, but that didn't mean I could immediately resist the instinct I'd been obeying ever since I met her, the instinct that ordered me to make sure that everything I did earned her approval. I met her eyes, but couldn't read them. She was burning with some emotion, but I wasn't sure what it was. She just stared.

"So . . . do I get yelled at for beating up your ex?" I asked at last. A small smile graced her face, but she said nothing. I turned away a little, to look at O'Malley, who'd begun choosing the next couple of fighters.

"Hey," I heard Kim say softly, and she turned my face back towards her with one finger. "He deserved it," she told me in a whisper. I smiled, making my face bleed even more profusely. Her expression changed to one of worry. "Come on, let's go visit our old friend the nurse."

"You again?" the nurse grumbled as I walked in, half-supported by Kim. Halfway to the infirmary, the adrenaline had worn off and the pain and exhaustion kicked in. I sank onto a cot, and the nurse grabbed some medical supplies. She began cleaning and bandaging the cuts on my face. Once she finished with that, she said, "Alright, let's a take a look at those bruises. I need to make sure your lungs are okay and your ribs aren't cracked."

I looked at her, uncomprehending. "Take off your shirt, for pity's sake," she added impatiently. Kim shifted uncomfortably, undoubtedly recalling the last uncomfortable time that had happened. Made uncomfortable mostly by me.

"Uh, yeah, I should go back. O'Malley will be wondering where I am. See ya." And then she was gone. I allowed myself a tiny smile for a moment, then killed it when I saw the nurse wearing a smirk herself. She began pressing my ribcage, checking for cracked ribs.

"You two together yet?" she asked as she worked.

"Um, no, ma'am."

"And why not?" I gave her a look that said, That's private. She tsked at me.

"Young man, I've seen it all. Whatever your issue is, I've dealt with it before." The nurse paused, and I hissed in a breath as she pressed on one of my more sensitive bruises. "That being said, I also know that your type will find talking about it easier. You don't have to take my advice, but I'm old, and I have my share of wisdom." She paused again. "I'm Tara, by the way. Nurse Tara to you."

I opened my mouth to say thanks, but no thanks, but instead the whole story came out. Tara listened patiently, never reacting with surprise, as she treated my various bruises and scrapes.

" . . . and I guess it just boils down to the fact that I don't really know if she likes me, you know, like that, and even if she does, I don't know what to do about it."

"You have got yourself all worked up about it, haven't you? Neglecting classes, I bet, dragging your squad down?" I nodded sheepishly and she rolled her eyes. "Good lord, next thing I know you'll be committing suicide. Young man, I can advise you if you want to hear it."

I shrugged. "Sure."

"Your Kim is a very unique girl. She's seen more than her share of pain, but she's strong enough to have gotten through it. I'll bet she's upset sometimes and none of you boys ever notice because she hides it so well." I nodded thoughtfully. "And you, young man, are unique as well. You're more observant and caring than most boys your age, and I can tell you care about her. However, you have a crap self-esteem, and so you will never be able to believe she cares about you unless she tells you herself. Well, I will tell you right now, young man, Kim cares about you. But everyone she's ever loved - her family, her boyfriend - have caused her so much pain, and that's why she won't show it. You think she's fearless? She's terrified of you, Jason Stark."

I winced as Nurse Tara applied the last of the bandages, patting me on the cheek.

"Terrified, huh?" I replied, after thinking silently for a moment. "Not exactly what I was going for . . ." Nurse Tara gave me a smile.

"She's only scared because she doesn't know you. And that's what all fears boil down to: the fear of the unknown. She doesn't know who you really are, but I suspect she's beginning to understand."

I gave her a questioning look as she motioned for me to get off of the cot. "Is that a good thing?" She smiled slightly, almost like it was painful, handing me my shirt.

"We'll see."


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Little Things . . . and Big Stuff Too

Reach, May 10, 2551

"Hey Chris," I started, pausing for a second to gather my thoughts as I sat in front of my holodesk. It had been a while since Chris's last message, 2 weeks or so, but I assumed he was just busy. Again.

"So, I know you're probably busy at the moment, and I'm not even sure if you'll get a chance to watch this, but I really need to ask a question," I stopped again, looking down at my hands, which were folded on my desk.

"How did you get through your year in the academy? I mean, you had to have had some problems, right? People who hated you? Maybe wanted you dead?"

I sighed, trying to focus on what I wanted to say. Ever since my fight with Mark, everyone had started acting weird around me. They weren't exactly scared, just . . . almost in awe. Like they actually respected me. Respect wasn't something I had felt from anyone since I got into training.

Fidelis Squad was doing better though. Probably because I wasn't screwing everyone up anymore. I found myself able to focus when I needed to, during combat exercises and training routines. Classes weren't as dreadful, although they still were a bit boring. But I was actually enjoying combat training; like really, really enjoying it.

Being on the shooting range calmed me down, helped me focus. Hand-to-hand combat training let me take out all of my frustrations without actually hurting anybody, which is a nice change of pace. And the obstacle course made me more aware, agile, and confident than ever before. It still hurt like hell, and I wasn't breezing through it exactly, but it felt like something I could use to hone my abilities rather than something I had to torture myself with.

Magnus Squad was still ahead on the leaderboards, just managing to stay in first place by mere points. They were just too aggressive in training exercises like capture the flag and combat simulations for any other squad to handle. They weren't reckless, like Mark was when I fought him. They channeled their power through actual tactical plans that seemed to be working, most created by Mark. He seemed to have learned something from our fight after all. Shame.

All of this flashed through my mind in a couple seconds as I sat in my room.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is . . ." I hesitated before continuing. What was I trying to say?

I cleared my throat. "Is it worth it? Is all of this training really worth it?" I knew Chris wasn't actually out fighting yet, but I knew he would be soon. Being in officer school, he probably heard more about the battles we were waging with the Covenant more than I did.

"Ever since mom died, all I've ever wanted is to be out there on the front lines, fighting the Covies. It's the only thing that's kept me from ditching this damned academy and going back home," I said, choking slightly on the last word. Losantiville wasn't my home. My home was gone.

They burned it, I reminded myself. They burned my home and they murdered my mother.

But can I do this?

To my surprise, I received an answer from Chris mere minutes after I sent the video log. Clearly he'd been on his holodesk when it received my message.

The image on my brother appeared on my screen. His face was stressed and exhausted, but he wore a smile for me. "Hey, kid," he said. He was in the habit of calling me kid. I couldn't say I liked it. "Straight to the point. I've been where you are. I get how you're feeling. Judging by the look you're getting on your face, I bet there's not only a guy who wants you dead, but also a girl you're into. Like I said - been there. Done that. And kid, I haven't even been out in the field yet. I might be digging my own grave right now. But I'm hoping and praying it's worth it, because, ah . . ." He took a deep breath, looking upset. "They killed Mom. You know that. And just recently, they killed my best friend, Kyle. You never met him, but you guys would've gotten along." His face darkened, growing harder and harder as he continued, managing, incredibly, to keep his voice level. "He didn't go on to officer's school, he just went straight out onto the field, and the Covies killed him. So let me tell you, if this isn't worth it, then we might as well shoot ourselves now, because there's nothing else to live for. We need to stop the Covenant from killing any more innocent people." Chris slumped back into his chair. His eyes teared up, but he took a deep breath and dashed them away. "Keep at it, Jason. You'll be okay."

With that, the video feed cut off. I realized my mouth was hanging open and shut it with a snap. I sat back in my chair, dropping my head into my hands. How much could our family lose? First Dad. Then Mom. Now Chris' best friend?

"I'm sorry," said a soft voice from my doorway. I jerked around so fast that my chair tipped over and spilled me onto the floor. Kim suppressed a smile as she ran over to help me up.

"Sorry, sorry, are you okay?" she asked, grabbing my hand and helping me stand up. Once I did, we were only a few inches apart, a fact that was not lost on her or me. She blushed, dropped my hand and stepping away.

"Yeah, I'm good," I answered as my voice cracked. I steadied my breathing before continuing. "Were you spying on me?"

"When you say it like that, it sounds so messed up," she muttered, so quietly I barely heard it.

"What?"  
"Nothing! I- no, I wasn't- I was just- Yeah, I was spying," she sighed, her face flushed with embarrassment.

"Um . . . why?" I was taken aback.

"Well, I wasn't spying, necessarily. I was just walking past your room and when I saw you were watching a video log, I stopped and listened." She sounded nervous. Awkward. I remembered what Tara said about her being afraid of me and wondered if that was why.

I rolled my eyes. "So you weren't spying, you were eavesdropping."

Kim frowned, irritated. "You know what, I'll just go."

She turned to walk out of the room, but I grabbed her arm. "No!" She looked at me, eyebrows raised. "I mean, I was about to send him a message in return," I amended, releasing her arm immediately. "You want to talk to him with me?" A weird offer, but why not?

"Uh, sure." I offered the chair to her, but she shook her head.

"That's okay, you can sit. I'll kneel." I opened my mouth to argue, but she gave me a look.

"Please, Stark. I'm not a 'lady' - you don't need to treat me like one." I closed my mouth and just started recording.

"Hey, Chris. Um, this is Kim Barrett. She's on my squad." Kim waved at the camera with a smile.

"Hi, Jason's brother." I grinned at her and she grinned back. I turned back to the camera.

"Anyway, so I'm really sorry about . . . you know. If you want to talk about it, go ahead. I'll listen. It might make you feel better." I'd run out of things to say. "Um," I addressed Kim. "You want to say something to him?" She grinned at the camera.

"Your brother's annoying, Chris."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks for that input, Kim. Chris, thanks for the advice and everything. See you." I shut off the recording and sent the video. Then I turned to Kim.

"Annoying?" I demanded playfully. She smiled, nudging me with her shoulder.

"Well, you are."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Well, so are you."

She held up her hands in surrender. "I never said I wasn't, I'm just saying that you are."

"Hey, I'm not as annoying as some people."

"Well, yeah, I know that. At least you're not all depressed anymore. What was up with that, by the way?" Her green eyes were openly curious, but I felt myself shrinking back. I didn't want to explain. I wasn't ready.

Luckily, at that very moment my holodesk beeped with a reply from Chris. I opened the file, and I saw his grinning face.

"Hi, Jason. Hey, Kim. You're beautiful. My girlfriend, Rebecca, always says that girls love compliments, the little things, so I shall say it again. Kim, you're beautiful." I looked at her, and her face was glowing with happiness. Compliments do something strange to girls. "And yes. Jason is annoying. You're smart, too."

"Told you so!" Kim exclaimed.

"Oh, just shut up," I grumbled teasingly.

"So, let's just throw everything on the table here. Jason takes forever to get around to this sort of thing, so I'm doing doing him a favor even though he's going to hate me for this." A dread started building in my gut. I thought I knew what he was going to say, and I really didn't want him to say it. "So, Kim, I'm sorry if this puts you in an awkward position, but I'm just going to tell you that Jason likes you. If you know what I mean." I was so going to kill him. Kim was very pointedly not looking at me, and her cheeks were red.

"Anyway, Jason, you said I should talk about what happened with Kyle. Maybe that's true, but I can't right now. Sorry, kid. And I am sorry about probably embarrassing the crap out of you, but trust me, it's better to just throw everything on the table because we're living in a universe where you could die at any moment. You don't want to die with regrets, Jason. Nice meeting you, Kim." Then Chris' face vanished.

"Heard that!" Rodriguez said triumphantly from the doorway.

"Is there no privacy?" I demanded. "You're spying on me, too?"

Unlike Kim, Rod had no problems admitting everything. "Yep," he said cheerfully. "This is just too funny. I shall save my commentary for tomorrow, seeing as light's out is in-" He checked his watch. "-two minutes. You'd better get to your room, Kim. Doors lock at light's out, and you don't want to get trapped in Jason's room." I knew what Rod was thinking, and judging by her embarrassed and irritated expression, Kim did too.

"Yeah, I'd better go," she agreed, standing. "Nice meeting your brother, Jason. See you guys tomorrow." With that, she just walked out.

"Is she indifferent?" I muttered to myself as I watched her walk away. Rod heard and he gave me a cheeky wink.

"Nah, she's just embarrassed as shit." With another grin, he left, too.

"Jackass," I said under my breath.

"Heard that too!"

"Jason, move your ass back here! You're too close!"

I sighed as I heard Cody yell at me through the comm unit in my helmet. I was taking cover behind a tree as rounds whizzed past me on every side, tearing up the trunk and shredding leaves into little pieces of green. The enemy had a solid position behind a line of boulders and fallen trees a good ways ahead of me, granting them the ability to unleash a torrent of rifle fire without the fear of losing a man.

Except they wouldn't really "lose" anyone, seeing as we were using stun rounds, and they weren't really the "enemy," seeing as this was just Capture the Flag. With guns.

Cody, Kim, and I had been sent out to actually capture the other team's flag, while the rest of Fidelis Squad stayed behind to guard our own. It was only logical that Cody would want to help capture it. Being the squad leader, he would want to make sure we did it right. Kim was here since she was our best marksman. I was here because Cody picked me, probably since I was fast and agile. I assumed he was going to have me carry the flag, which wasn't a prospect I was totally opposed to; I just didn't want to screw it up.

The other team, Magnus Squad, no surprise, had another advantage; they had more people. Judging by the amount of fire we were under, it was safe to assume that they had kept four men back to defend, and three ahead to steal our flag. We had stumbled across the four defenders as we advanced into their territory, not yet knowing of their strategy.

The forest we were fighting in was thick with trees and dotted with huge rocks, providing ideal cover for each squad. The flags for each team had been placed at the back of the squad's territory, in the middle of a small clearing surrounded by a natural ring of stone. It wasn't a terribly tall wall, but it would be difficult for someone to get in, let alone get out with a flag in one hand.

"Jason! I said fall back! We need a plan!" Cody's voice once again filled my helmet, barely audible over the sound of gun fire. I glanced back to where he was taking cover, behind a rock a few yards behind me to my right. Kim was at his side, peaking out from behind her cover to get a couple shots off with her Designated Marksman Rifle before once again ducking back to avoid being shot herself. Cody motioned for me to dash back to them.

"Start running! Kim will cover you!"

I nodded, waiting until Kim moved to fire before sprinting over to them. I heard a shout from behind me as the defenders realized I was out in the open. Stun rounds tore through the air around me, one narrowly avoiding the left side of my helmet, causing me to jerk to the side. Cody quickly scrambled out of the way to give me room behind the rock as I came barrelling in.

"Get anyone?" I asked, breathing rapidly. Kim shook her head, a scowl on her dirt-smeared face.

"They're too well protected. That fallen tree on the left over there lets them shoot out of the branches while still giving them cover. We won't be able to get past them unless we force them away from there." Cody nodded in assent.

"And there's no way to do that, because if we try to flank them by coming around the left, trying to get behind the tree, their marksman will pick us off since there's virtually no cover over there," he added, looking at me with a somber expression. "They've really planned this out quite well."

I shook my head. "No plan is foolproof. There's got to be something we can use to our advantage . . ." I trailed off, briefly sticking by head out over the rock to survey their cover. A single shot from their marksman went off, forcing me to duck down, but not before I had spotted something.

"There's a beehive," I offered, continuing with my explanation as I saw Kim and Cody's confused expressions. "There's a hive hanging from a branch that extends right over their cover behind the fallen tree." I quickly took another look. "The branch is starting to rot and the tree is old, so if we could blast it off -"

"- the hive would fall down and the bees would make them move," Kim finished, catching onto my plan. She gave me a weird look, like she was . . . surprised? No, more like impressed. Or turned on.

Really? Turned on by a simple plan about a bee hive? Jason, you're stupid.

Cody nodded. "That could work. Good idea, Jason." Before I could even accept my compliment, Cody had already started giving orders. I wasn't hurt, just intrigued by his level of maturity. He was the same age as all of us, and yet he seemed so much older, so much more adult-like. He took command and made sure everything got done the way it needed to get done. Definitely the way a squad leader would-

"Jason! Did you hear me? I need you to be the one to shoot off the limb."

I nodded hurriedly to Cody's order. "Yes, I heard you."

"Good. On my mark, you're going to fall back a bit and stand up to shoot at the branch. Aim for the base of it, so that the whole limb falls off. That, combined with the bees, will get them moving out from behind the tree. There's a small gap between the end of the tree and their boulder, where they'll run for cover, so Kim will try to pick off as many of them as she can as they run past the gap. As soon as you start shooting, I'm going to move over to the right, towards the boulder. You're going to go to the left around the tree as soon as the branch falls. We'll flank them from each side, then get them when they're grouped up behind the boulder. Got it?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

Cody grinned slightly. "Great. Avoid the bees, too." He turned from me, facing Kim.

"You ready?" A nod from Kim. "Then on my mark . . . Now!"

The command had just left his mouth when I stood up and moved back, the branch with the beehive coming into view just above the top of the rock, a good distance away. I aimed for the base of the limb and held down the trigger of my assault rifle, unleashing a furious stream of stun rounds.

The bullets made an incredible noise as they hit the branch, pieces of wood flying off in every direction and raining down on the huddled defenders. The noise and the spray of wood might've been a distraction enough, but just in case, I kept the barrel of my rifle pointed at the branch, finally sawing it off with a tremendous crack.

I didn't stop to watch it fall. I was already moving, running around to the left side of the fallen tree. I heard cries as the beehive exploded on the ground, and more yells when Kim pegged a man he ran for cover. I glanced back and saw her face, tight with determination. Then, skilled as I was, I clipped a tree and stumbled forward. Rather than falling on my face like an idiot, I threw out my hands and rolled forward, coming up on one knee to fire at the remaining two defenders. They were out before they knew what was happening. Cody's smile was triumphant as he waved us onwards, just lowering his rifle after taking out the last defender.

"Push forward to get the flag! The other three," he said, motioning towards the fallen, groaning soldiers, numb from stun rounds, "should be at our base, so we shouldn't meet any more resistance." I nodded, starting to move towards the rocky formation surrounding the flag as Cody gesture back for Kim to move up.

I approached the wall and paused, scanning the craggy surface for good handholds and footholds. The wall was about eight feet high; not much of a climb, but it would certainly pose an issue for any invaders attempting to scale it quickly. Cody and Kim caught up with me as I stood there.

"I'll wait out here and keep an eye out for anyone that may wander back," Kim informed us. She glanced at Cody. "You can go over and help Jason get back over. It may require two to trade off climbing and holding the flag."

Cody opened his mouth to say something, looking a bit taken aback, but then closed it quickly and nodded. "Right. Keep going, Jason."

Attaching my rifle to my back, I began my ascent, reaching up with my right hand, then my left, pulling myself up until both my feet were on the wall as well. It wasn't totally vertical, especially near the top, where it angled off to a flat surface. With one more movement I was able to position my arms across the top of the wall and pull the rest of my body onto it. There was just enough space for me to crouch there, looking down at the inside of the clearing.

The flag stood up straight in the center of the field on a small, circular base plate. The flag itself was blue, with the NAMA emblem spread across the face, rippling in the slight breeze that wafted across the clearing.

Cody pulled himself up next to me with a grunt, sighing as he crouched down. "There it is," he whispered. He gave me a pat on the shoulder. "Let's get it and then hightail it out of here before the enemy arrives."

We dropped down into the circle and jogged to the flag. Cody motioned for me to get the flag as he checked his motion tracker.

"Why would they come back here?" I asked him, shouldering my rifle and picking up the flag. "The enemy, I mean. Don't you think Biff, Rod, and Ed would've been able to hold them?"

Cody shrugged. "I'm not sure. I would certainly hope that they're still there, fighting to get our flag, but I have a feeling they've gotten it. Or at least that they're close." I quickly glanced at Cody as I held the flag, and noticed that he was . . . nervous. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, biting his lip and looking around. Realizing I was just standing there, he impatiently urged me to get a move on.

I clutched the flag with both hands as we approached the wall again. Cody started up before me, and when he reached the top, he turned for the flag. I handed it to him and climbed up myself, dropping down on the outside to take it back from him.

We ran back to Kim, who immediately started running back towards our base.

"We've got to go, now!" she yelled back to us as we plunged once again into the thick forest. "I just heard from Ed over the comm, he said they couldn't hold the flag much longer."

I quickly checked my motion tracker, as we ran, mimicking Cody's response to Kim's warning. "Is anyone down?" I asked.

Kim nodded. "Rod is, and Biff's already taken a hit, but he's still shooting."

Just then my comm buzzed with chatter. Cody signaled for us to stop.

"This is Ed!" the comm crackled. "The enemy has the flag; they've taken out Biff and me. I can barely move, so I'm not sure how long I can keep up this u-" The transmission suddenly cut off.

"Ed?" Cody yelled through the comm. "Ed, are you there?" Nothing.

"He's succumbed to the stun rounds," Kim guessed, raising her rifle slightly. "The cadets with the flag will be coming back to their base, fast. I don't know if they got a message from their teammates about us, but I'm sure they'll be coming fast anyway."

"There's no doubt about it," Cody followed up. "They'll probably be coming through this way . . ." He looked back at his tracker, but all of ours remained blank. I could tell just from the look on his face that Cody was desperately trying to come up with a plan, the nervousness I noticed before becoming even more apparent. His leg was bouncing up and down, almost imperceptibly, and he kept adjusting his grip on his rifle. Kim and I exchanged quick looks, nervously waiting for an order.

"I guess we could . . . we could . . . ah damn it, I don't know!" he cursed, shaking his head. "I don't know what to do!"

Kim took a step towards him. "Hey, it's fine. You can't always expect yourself to have a plan. Sometimes it just -"

"But I'm supposed to be the goddamn leader!" he spat through clenched teeth.

"Look, it's no big deal, we'll just-"

"How can I be a leader if I can't always have a plan, huh? What happens when we're out on the battlefield, in the middle of a full-scale military operation? That's a pretty big deal, Kim!"

I took a step toward Cody as well, moving the flag from one hand to the other.

"Cody, this isn't the time to argue about this! The enemy has our flag, and if we don't get moving, we're going to get taken out. So let's calm down and think of a plan toge-"

My sentence was interrupted as stun round hit me in the shoulder, jerking my body to the left as the sting penetrated my armor.

"Enemy fire, take cover!" Kim cried, bringing her rifle up to her shoulder and moving to take position behind a tree. Cody grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into cover as well. My arm spasmed wildly as the stun round took effect, and I gritted my teeth, latching onto my wrist with my other hand.

"I can't shoot," I grunted through my teeth. "My arm's messed up." Cody nodded acknowledgement, his face tense, clearly thinking hard. But apparently today was not his day, judging by his frustrated expression. Kim peered around her tree, taking shots at the enemy. I heard a cry as she found a mark, and a brief look of pride flashed across her face.

An idea occurred to me. "We're going to have to split up," I told Cody. "We're too big of a target together. If we separate, they'll have to choose who to hunt or split up themselves. Either way it's a better deal for the group."

He gave a short, curt nod and took over. "Kim, I want you to go left. Keep shooting as you run - take out as many of them as you can, but don't play the hero. Get back to base." She gave Cody a thumbs-up from her position. "Jason, you-" he began, but was cut off by an idea. "Take the flag and run for it. You're the fastest. Kim will cover you."

"And what about you, Cody?" Kim said, ducking behind the trunk of her tree to take cover from the hail of gunfire.

"You guys need a distraction to get out of here," he answered grimly. My mouth fell open, but before I could protest, his face hardened with resolve and he leaped out from behind our cover, shouting, "GO!" I froze for half a second, then my instinct kicked in and I dove to the right, opposite of where Kim was heading, half-concealing the flag behind my body as I ran. One man turned to take aim at me, only for Kim to shoot him in the back. I spotted a particularly dense patch of undergrowth and pretended to fall to cover my taking cover in it. The enemy apparently believed my ruse and turned their full attention on Kim and Cody. Peering through the leaves, I saw Cody spasm as one, two, three shots hit his torso. His cry echoed through the radio, and I winced. Stun rounds they might be, but they still hurt like hell.

Once I was sure the coast was clear, I ventured out of the undergrowth and made a mad dash for our base. I heard a few cries of alarm and heard a few shots whizz by me, but none touched me.

I just focused on running as fast as possible, weaving in between trees to block the stun rounds. One well-placed shot to the back and I would be down, and we would lose to Mark. I could hear a few of the attackers following me, crashing through the vegetation and shooting madly at me.

There was a sharp drop-off as the forest took a small dive into a lower section. I hurtled over the edge, running at full speed, not wanting to risk slowing down. The ground came rushing up to meet me, and I cushioned our greeting with a small roll, which sort of turned into a slide at the end, but I'm sure it looked badass anyway. And that's obviously where the points are going.

I let out a triumphant shout as I crossed over into our territory. As my foot crossed the boundary, a bell rang loudly, signifying our victory. Rod ran up to me, yelling incomprehensibly, and jumped on my back, crowing with elation. Kim followed at a slower pace, supporting a groaning Ed with a huge smile on her face. Biff limped behind, his face tight with pain, but also with a grin.

I laughed as Rod shrieked in my ear. "WE WON! WE WON! WE BEAT MARK AND HIS BASTARDS! WE WON!" I handed him the flag with a grin, and he ran a victory lap around our squad. Ed looked around, his brow furrowed.

"Where's Cody?" he asked, and I frowned.

"He stayed behind to be a distraction."

"So . . ." Ed began, trailing off.

"We should go get him, right?" asked Rod, walking up to us after finishing his lap. "He probably got hit enough to knock him out. He's definitely not going anywhere."

Kim pointed towards where she had come from. "I think I know where he went down."

We all followed Kim back through the forest, occasionally passing a moaning cadet that bore marks of her handiwork. It took us a while to find Cody, but when we did, we all stopped dead in our tracks. Ed ran over to his limp body, turning it over from its face-down position so that we could see Cody's face. I let out a gasp and ran forward next to Ed. Everyone else was frozen in shock, horror, and fury.

Because Cody's face was covered in blood.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Breaking Point

Reach, May 11, 2551

He lay limply on the ground, eyes barely cracked open. His face was a mess of blood and growing bruises. Both his eyes were black, and the marks on his throat suggested that someone had tried to strangle him.

Stun rounds don't do that to a guy. But they do render you defenseless against any attack from an unsportsmanlike assailant. When Cody saw us, he attempted to sit up, only to fall back with a gasp of pain. I eased Cody up, and he sat with his back against a tree, his eyes drifting closed from exhaustion. Kim knelt next to me, her face concerned and angry all at once.

"Who did this to you, Cody?" she asked, her voice gentle. But beneath the surface, I detected a sea of roiling emotion. Fury, mostly.

He shook his head. "I don't know. They came up from behind."

"I'm pretty sure we can all agree it was Mark," Rod said, knee bouncing up and down uncontrollably. He was on the verge of shouting. "It was that goddamn son of a bitch!"

"We can't make any assumptions," Ed muttered, still examining Cody's bloodied face. His nose was bent at an angle it was not intended to be at.

"Assumption my ass!" Rod spat through clenched teeth. "That psycho has had it out for us, and when he saw Cody alone he took his chance!"

I held out a hand to calm him down. "Listen, Rod, the reality is that we don't know who it was. What we need to do now is get Cody to the infirmary and -"

"He's stopped breathing." Ed's voice was quivering. "He stopped breathing!"

Kim started to pick him up. "We have to go now!"

I watched as Biff, Ed, and Kim carried our unconscious leader out of the forest, Rod and I trailing behind them uselessly. I kept my eyes trained on Cody while Rod held his rifle in clenched hands, sweeping the barrel back and forth against the surrounding forest.

My heart was pounding out of my chest, and I couldn't decide why: fury or fear?

Commander Moore looked over all of us, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a line in front of her desk. All of us except Cody, who was in the infirmary. We stood straight, but not at attention; we were all a bit too on edge for that.

"None of you know who did this?" she asked.

"No ma'am," we all muttered in unison.

She took a deep sigh and rubbed her forehead, looking almost as stressed as the rest of us. Part of me felt sorry for her; this year must have been tough just because of Mark. But then the darker, less forgiving side of me currently dominating most of my thoughts drowned out the tiny voice of sympathy. This was a military academy. She should be used to dealing with this.

Commander Moore asked us another question. "Do you know of anyone who might've done this?"

Rod and I made brief eye contact. He licked his lips.

"I think," he started, voice breaking at the end. He cleared his throat to continue. "I think it might have been Mark Tybalt."

Moore opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to change her mind as she closed it. "Anyone else?"

Rod laughed. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Excuse me, cadet?" Moore stiffened at Rod's outburst and stared him down until he shifted his feet nervously, boldness fading away.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. It just hardly seems like anyone else would have done it." Rod looked up at her for confirmation.

"I understand your concerns, Rodriguez," Moore assented, "but there's nothing I can do until he - or whoever did it - comes forward himself. As we speak I have officers questioning each member of Magnus Squad."

She looked over all of our faces once more, immediately sensing that we were unsatisfied, and added, "I want whoever did this to be held accountable just as much as you do."

I bit my lip, holding in a retort. There was nothing I could say right now that would have helped Chris. There was nothing any of us could do. Even if we found out who sent him to the infirmary on a stretcher, it wasn't going to improve his condition.

"That's all. You're dismissed."

We filed out of the commander's office, heading towards the infirmary to check on Cody. Rod kept shaking his head and muttering about Mark.

When we arrived, he was still unconscious and breathing shallowly while Tara rubbed some gross-looking paste on one of the cuts on his arm. She looked up as we entered, eyes narrowed threateningly. An amusing sight on such a gentle old lady.

"You know the rules, kids. Two at a time, and if you harm my patient, I will not hesitate to give you a good smack." Rod sniggered and Tara fixed him with a surprisingly hard stare. She pointed one paste-smeared finger at him, and said, "Don't test me, boy. Two at a time. The rest of you, out."

"He's unconscious," I pointed out cautiously. "If we're quiet, can we all stay?" She fixed her gray eyes on me and I froze.

"Fine," she relented. "But I expect good behavior."

"Yes, ma'am!" we chorused.

"Shh!" Then she bustled away, into her office.

Kim grinned as we took seats around Cody's cot. "I love her."

"She's pretty great," Ed agreed. "I spent some volunteer hours here during free time, and there's nobody who cares about us more than her."

Rod wasn't paying attention. "I hate this!" he growled, hitting one fist against the wall. "So, what, Mark's allowed to beat us up and we can't even fight back? That isn't right."

Ed nodded agreement. "And what if it happens on the battlefield, assuming we survive the academy?" he said. "He could get a lot of people killed."

"He's not a futuristic thinker. He doesn't understand the widespread effect of his actions," Kim said quietly. "That's his problem, besides his violent and mildly psychopathic tendencies."

"Too many big words there," Rod said.

Kim rolled her eyes. "He's an ass who can't see the big picture."

"Amen, sister."

"So what do you suggest we do?" asked a slow, deep voice. Biff had been staring at Cody with something akin to remorse, but at that moment, he looked to me. Slowly, the rest of the squad turned their eyes on me, like maybe I had the answer.

"Nothing we can do, is there?" I said self-consciously. "If we act against him, we'll get caught and expelled." Ed, Rod, and Biff nodded and muttered their agreement, but Kim snorted a little, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

"You all are such boys," she said, staring past me at the far wall.

I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Her eyes refocused. "Oh, nothing offensive," she added hurriedly. "It's just that it's always the easy answer for you guys. I hate the game as much as any guy, but I know how to play it like any girl."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Rod asked, completely bemused.

Kim laughed a little. "Sorry. I was saying that what we could do is ask around. Find witnesses if there were any."

I frowned again. "Didn't sound like you were saying that."

She sighed, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, if we wanted to play really dirty, we could spread rumors about Magnus Squad and turn the other squads against them. Or we could blame Mark for something he didn't do to get him expelled for what he did do. I don't recommend it. It's not honorable." She reached back to pull her hair into a ponytail.

"He's not honorable, either," Rod pointed out, his voice hard.

"No, but we're not him, are we?" Kim said, tying off her hair and turning her eyes on him. He squirmed under her questioning gaze. "Let's not lower ourselves to his level."

There was a brief pause while we all thought about that.

"She's right," Biff said. "That's not what we stand for."

"Yeah," I added eloquently.

"I don't like it, but I'm with you, bro," Rod agreed grumpily. Kim looked at him again. "And sis, sorry."

"We can still ask around, though," I said. "Everyone likes Cody. Someone might have seen what happened."

"And didn't try to stop it?" Rod challenged.

I shrugged. "Worth a try, right?"

He sighed. "Sadly, it's our best shot."

Jericho was a little kid. I couldn't believe he'd made it so far in the academy. He was small and thin, with a mop of blond hair, pale blue eyes, and skin so light it was almost translucent.

"Nobody really notices me," he commented as we moved through the line during dinner. "So I see a lot. But I didn't see that. Sorry, man."

"It's all right," I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

Jericho looked up me, lips pursed. "I heard something else that you might want to know, though."

"What?"

"Someone confessed."

I almost dropped my tray.

"Mark confessed?"

He frowned. "No, that's the problem. It was Erik." I didn't recognize the name. "Erik?" Jericho repeated, watching my face for any sign of recognition. "No? He's the only small guy on Magnus Squad. They give him a hard time. Guy could be a great Marine, but not with that kind of team around him. My guess is that they forced him. He was terrified of them."

Another person being pushed around just because they were smaller. I'm so sick of that.

Something caught my eye and I left the line, muttering my thanks to Jericho. Cody was staggering into the mess hall, supported by Biff.

"Hey, man," I said, coming up beside him. "How're you doing?"

"Not great," he forced out from between clenched teeth. "But if I miss another class, I'm going to fail Ethics."

"Hey!" Kim ran up. "Good to see you up and about, Cod-"

"Oh, hel-lo there," comes a familiar drawl. My jaw clenches and I look away from Cody to see Mark, planted firmly in front of us. For the first time, I see Biff visibly tense, clearly furious, but Kim lays a gentle hand on his arm and he relaxes with effort. "Good to see you around, Cody," he says, his words dripping with sarcasm and false sympathy. "It broke my heart to see you so pathetically weak."

"Shut up, Mark," Kim said with deliberate calm, though her fists were clenched tightly.

"Can I not share my condolences?" he asked, stepping closer to Cody. I shifted to place myself a bit in front of him. Movement to my right made me notice that Kim had done the same, so we created a human shield between Mark and Cody.

"Guys," Cody said softly, almost embarrassed. "It's okay."

Kim and I exchanged a glance, but stepped aside.

Quick as lightning, Mark grabbed Cody's arm, right on a dark bruise. Cody hissed in a breath and Kim and I lunged for Mark, but our leader barked out a quick, "Stop!"

Mark's grip tightened and he leaned close to whisper in Cody's ear, "That's what you get, you son of a bitch." Then he released him and sauntered away.

We watched him go, then turned back to Cody as he sighed and opened his mouth.

"I want to thank you guys for looking our for me," he started, looking each of us in the eyes as he spoke. "I really, really appreciate it."

Rod cleared his throat. "Just helping out our leader." Cody nodded, clearly thinking about what to say next. Instead, he simply forced a smile and made a hasty farewell, saying he was going to go back to his barracks to rest.

"I think I could use some rest too," Ed said, with Biff nodding assent. They made their way out, with Rod following close behind.

Kim was still watching Cody walk away. "You know that his pride is what's hurting more, right?"

I nodded. "I know." It felt uncomfortable to talk about my leader, no, my friend, like this. Cody had a lot of promise as a squad leader, but also a few flaws. His decision making was excellent when assisted by Kim, but he had the issue of self-consciousness. Which was understandable. He's supposed to be the fearless leader, the untouchable commander. leading his troops into battle with unflinching resolve. Getting sent to the infirmary in the state he was in didn't exactly help boost his confidence.

That's what it came down to; the confidence.

I stood there, thinking about what was going through Cody's head, barely noticing when Kim left my side. I only made my way to the barracks when the lights began to shut off in the mess hall.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Dirty Dancing

Reach, May 12, 2551

A wailing alarm jolted me out of my restless sleep and I sat bolt upright, fear and adrenaline making me alert. I grabbed my uniform and pulled it on, then stumbled out of my room. The rest of Fidelis Squad was gathered around Cody across the room, and I pushed my way through the throng of cadets to them.

"What's going on?" I demanded.

"I don't know," he said briskly. Fear made the rest of us antsy, rash, and nervous. For Cody, his mind cleared and he made quick but good decisions. "The only explanation I can come up with is that we're under attack, and I'm not waiting around for invaders to get to us. Follow me, Fidelis Squad!" He began leading the way out of the barracks, only to stop short as the intercom burst to life.

"Cadets!" came the familiar bellow of O'Malley's voice. He sounded strained and anxious, and I instantly became fifty times more nervous. I fidgeted from foot to foot as I listened. "We're under attack by insurgents, and there are traitors amongst us. Arm yourselves, retrieve your helmets, and attack using stun rounds only. They are human beings, and despite being the bastards that they are, they deserve a trial. Do not hesitate to shoot another cadet or even a superior officer if they are marked as a threat on your HUD. Under no circumstances are you to leave the grounds of the academy. This is the safest place for you to be right now. All squad leaders are temporarily promoted to the rank of Corporal. Now go!" Before O'Malley could cut off the intercom, we heard the sounds of a door crashing in and the cries of battle. My face drained of color, but I shook my head to clear it and look to Cody.

His face was also pale, but it was hard with determination. "Fidelis Squad - follow me!" he cried again, and we fell into parade formation around him as we ran out of the barracks. We retrieved our helmets and assault rifles from our weapons lockers, loading them with stun rounds. All of a sudden, a squad burst into the room. Too late, I checked my HUD - red dots marked each person.

"Hit the deck!" screamed Cody, and I threw myself to ground as the first round of stun rounds whizzed over our heads. "Keep moving - find cover and fire at will!" he yelled. I rolled behind my weapons locker and fired once, twice, taking down two targets. Then something hit me hard from the side - one of them had tackled me. I wrestled with whoever it was, throwing punches. An elbow jabbed me in the side and I hissed in a breath before swinging the butt of my assault rifle and knocking whoever it was unconscious. I scrambled to my feet to find that the scrape was over.

"Report!" came Cody's voice, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Until I turned and saw him on the ground. He was shaken by fits of coughing, curled into the fetal position. I dropped my knees beside him, taken by terror. He was still recovering.

"Cod- Corporal! Corporal, are you alright?" I asked, not sure of what else to do. He only shook his head as the retches shook his body.

"Ed!" I shouted, turning to look for the rest of our squad. Kim was pushing the inert body of an insurgent off of herself - she gave me a thumbs-up when I shot her a concerned glance. Rod was on his hands and knees, shaking his arm in an effort to get some feeling back into it. Biff was covering the door, and he gave me a nod when he met my gaze. Then I saw Ed lying on the ground, clutching his leg. I ran over to him.

"I'm good," he gasped, grimacing. "Got hit twice in the leg." I helped him to his feet and over to Cody. He rummaged in his medical kit and pulled out a bottle of the medicine that Tara had prescribed for Cody.

"Yo, Corp," Ed said, breaching protocol in an effort to cheer him up. "Have a drink." Cody cracked a smile and took the bottle, taking a swig in between coughs. Immediately, his breathing steadied and he sighed in relief, sitting up and handing the bottle back to Ed.

"Report!" he repeated.

"Good here," Kim called, now covering the door with Biff.

"I'll live," grumbled Rod, getting to his feet and retrieving his assault rifle. "My left pinkie finger may never be the same, though." I rolled my eyes, then nodded to Cody in acknowledgement that I was okay. Ed and Biff did the same, and the corporal got to his feet.

"Okay," he muttered. "What now?" Then, surprisingly, Biff walked up to Cody and gave him a once-over. A half-smile appeared on our leader's face. "I'm fine, Biff." He grumbled in disapproval, then shrugged and returned to his position covering the door.

We all turned our open-mouthed gazes on Cody and he shrugged self-consciously. "Biff and I grew up together on Mars. I'll tell you more about it later, but we've had each other's backs for a very long time." As one, our squad looked at Biff and he nodded in agreement.

"Oooookay," Rod muttered. "Back to the insurgent invasion?"

"Right," Cody said briskly. "We're going to cut a path through the academy, taking out whatever threat we see. Since we're not allowed to leave the grounds, our objective is to stun as many insurgents as we see. But don't play the hero - the priority is still to keep our squad safe. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!" I snapped a salute at Cody. I could have sworn the guy blushed.

"Enough of that, Jason. Let's get going."

The next hour passed simply enough. We kicked ass. A few dramatic moments when Kim was discovered in her sniping position, but a little hand-to-hand combat between her and a dude twice her size fixed that. Cody got hit the jaw with the butt of some girl's assault rifle, but Biff came to his defense and the girl was history. I noticed Rod choke as he realized the girl was in fact Miley, but his face tightened and he stepped over her like it was no big deal. Kim's face went pale when she noticed the same thing and she bit her lip, clearly upset. She spoke a few words to Cody over a private comms channel and he nodded. Then she dragged Miley out of the middle of the hallway, to a side room where she'd be relatively safe until the fighting was over. The rest of us did nothing. We didn't help her, nor did we try to stop her. We just let her do her thing.

After about three hours of this shit, the academy-wide intercom crackled to life and Fidelis Squad froze to listen. "Well, cadets," rumbled O'Malley's voice. "It's clear that little to none of my training has gotten through those thick heads. Did it occur to none of you that the alarm went off at precisely four hundred hours? That there are no unfamiliar faces that you're fighting? That you're only using stun rounds against so-called insurgents?" I felt incredibly stupid as I realized what he was saying. "Yes, cadets. You dumb bastards are in the middle of your final test. Report to your barracks immediately and get into field uniform, then meet in the mess hall for your debriefing on the calisthenics portion of the test. Those who are severely affected by stun rounds, go to the infirmary. You'll miss breakfast, but that's your own fault. Dismissed!"

As soon as the intercom cut off, Kim and Cody shouted in unison, "I knew it!" Biff was showing his rare grin, evidence that he too had figured it out. Ed, Rod, and I exchanged bewildered looks. I felt like a complete and utter dumbass.

"We . . . should probably go back to the barracks," I muttered to them.

"Agreed, amigo," Rod said, eyeing Kim, Cody, and Biff as they celebrated their own intelligence. The three of us turned and trudged away.

"Please tell me I wasn't the only one who didn't figure out that this whole thing was fake," muttered Ed under his breath as we sulkily listened to the cheerful chatter of Kim and Cody, who walked behind us.

I grimaced. "I wasn't even thinking about it. I was too busy trying to stun insurgents."

"Those three spend too much time thinking," Rod observed. "We're the real soldiers. Following orders unquestioningly. Being brain-dead killing machines."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure, Rod. Whatever you say."

"Atten-tion!" We snapped sharp salutes as various officers entered the mess hall, including Sergeant O'Malley and Commander Moore.

"At ease!" barked O'Malley.

I didn't miss the amused look that Moore shot him. "Welcome," she said, "to your graduation." Short and sweet. That's the UNSC for you.

Moore continued, "We will begin with those who, sadly, did not pass the final test." She announced a handful of names. There were several intakes of breath, but that's all the reaction she got.

"Now most of you know that you passed. What you all want to know, I'm sure, are the rankings. You should know that the leader of the squad in first place is permanently promoted to the rank of Corporal. Also, bear in mind that you are ranked by squad, and that these rankings depend not only upon your performance in classes and in your physical fitness, but upon your honor, your bravery, your integrity. These traits are what make humanity worth saving. These traits are what the Covenant do not possess. Never forget to be human. Now, Sergeant O'Malley, would you take over?"

O'Malley stepped forward. "In fifty-sixth place, Horace Squad," he began. Name after name blurred together as he rattled off a list of squads. I glanced to my left, not moving my head, just my eyes. There stood Cody, Biff, and Rod. And on my left, Kim and Ed.

I remembered my first day here at the academy. My anticipation. My nervousness. Everything. Meeting Rod, who could always put a smile on my face no matter how bad I felt. And Kim, who at first shocked me with her beauty and then shocked me with her strength. Ed, the obnoxious brainiac whose annoyingness had become amusing somehow. Cody, whose determination and maturity I'd come to depend upon, and Biff, with his silent presence always lending strength. I'd spend months with these people, learning who they were and learning who I was. And then there was O'Malley, who'd stripped away everything I thought I was with eighteen hours of pure shit a day. He'd torn me down and I'd built myself back up, stronger and better than I was before.

I realized that most of everything I was right that moment was because of the people around me.

"Third place!" hollered O'Malley, making me jump a bit. "Hellfire Squad!" He paused, and I could hear my own heart pounding. Had he announced our squad yet? I cursed my lack of concentration, working to breathe evenly. In. Out. "Second place!" O'Malley's voice seemed to reverberate countless times around the mess hall. In. Out. Breathe, Stark. Don't hope. Hope tears you down.

I hoped.

"Magnus Squad!" I released a huge breath, then sucked another one in, glancing over to where Mark stood. His face was carefully blank, but I detected two emotions in his eyes. Pride. And anger.

Why was it always anger?

Breathe, Stark. SHUT. UP. I'M. BREATHING.

I wasn't, really.

"And in first place . . ." O'Malley paused again. I hated that bastard. I let my eyes slip closed and gave up on breathing. I held my breath. "FIDELIS SQUAD!"

My eyes shot open and I breathed again. I was rigid with excitement and achievement. O'Malley met my eyes, and - was that pride I saw?

"One more thing before you go off and celebrate," he said directly to me. Then he looked away, at the whole crowd of cadets. "I'M STILL YOUR GODDAMN SERGEANT!" he roared, and there were several small cries of surprise. "DO NOT THINK I AM NOT THE BASTARD I'VE ALWAYS BEEN!" I let myself smile - just a bit.

Moore stepped forward with a half-smile on her face. I thought she was going to launch into this long spiel about courage and honor, but she just barked, "The dance is in one hour. Dismissed!" And she and the other officers left. There was a brief, tense silence that lasted for a nanosecond after the last officer left - then the hall burst into conversation.

"YES!" shrieked Ed, jumping up and down like a madman.

"TAKE THAT, BASTARDS!" Rod shouted at no one in particular. Biff had a broad smile on his face, and Kim was laughing at Ed and Rod, looking more carefree than I'd ever seen her. I felt a grin spread across my own face as I looked at them.

I got to my room and shut the door, quickly taking off my combat dress and getting into my formal uniform, which I had never really worn before.

I had a hell of a time doing up all of the buttons, looking in the mirror in my room to make sure all of the pins and little decorative flourishes were straight and tidy. I told myself it didn't really matter, and that I honestly didn't care how I looked, but as soon as I thought about Kim I knew I was telling myself lies.

I emerged from my room a few minutes later at the same time as Rod, who I could barely recognize, with his uniform on correctly and his hair in the neatest state I'd ever seen it.

"Um, Rod," I said. "What did you do to your hair? It's frightening."

He looked up at me, clearly distressed. "What? I thought I finally got it down! Is it bad? Do I need to fix it?"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down. There's nothing wrong with it. I've just never seen it so . . . neat," I told him, grinning as I saw him relax. He must be trying to impress somebody. Ten guesses as to who.

"So are we ready to go, then?" asked Rod, briefly looking around our barracks to check for anyone else. It seemed as if they had already gone to the dance.

I shrugged. "Guess so."

We headed down our hall, occasionally passing other cadets in their dress uniform. As we got closer to the main hall, I could start to hear the music, which thankfully wasn't anything slow. Just normal dance beats.

Rod sighed and adjusted his collar as we approached the entrance. "I hope we're not late or anything."

I shook my head. "We'll be fine. We're right on time." He gave a grimace of acknowledgement that quickly turned to a blush and a duck of the head as Miley flounced up to us wearing a dark pink dress, her blond hair much more curly than usual. Her face looked like a mask, she was wearing so much makeup, and I found myself a little disgusted by the result. Apparently her getup had the entirely opposite effect on Rod.

Paying my friend no attention, she addressed me. "So, Kim doesn't know I'm talking to you. But I just want you to know that's she's super self-conscious and stuff. But she looks totally hot. Just FYI." Then she bounced away.

I raised an eyebrow and glanced at Rod. He looked let down. I grinned and nudged him. "Come on, man, you gotta work a little bit harder than that."

For a split second, I thought he was going to hit me. Dark anger flashed across his face, along with something else I couldn't quite recognize - jealousy? But then the expression vanished, and I was sure I'd imagined it. "Yeah, sure. Except for you, Lover Boy."

I shrugged. "How should I know? I just act like myself-"

"-except more awkward-"

"-and boom, girls are falling at my feet," I joked as I took a step into the hall, trying to subconsciously urge Rod forward. He followed, continuing the conversation.

"One," he corrected. "One girl is falling at your feet."

I paused as we entered the darkened hall. "I'll let you have that one," I conceded, and he grinned in victory before vanishing into the crowd of cadets.

I scanned the crowd myself. I had to admit, I was extremely nervous to see Kim. I wasn't exactly sure why, but I had no idea what I was going to say, or . . . I was just nervous. I felt totally out of place in this dance. I was about to turn and walk out when a voice called my name.

"Jason?" I turned and there she was. The first thing I noticed were her eyes - seemingly larger and greener than usual because of light makeup application. Then her hair, carefully pinned away from her face with sparkling clips. Then the rest of her, in a knee-length dark green dress and black heels. The sexiest thing about it was the lean muscles visible in her arms and legs. Her eyes met mine, and I knew I was blushing, but I didn't really care.

"So . . ." She gave a small twirl. "What do you think?"

"Um . . . you look . . . really nice," I said lamely, mentally slapping myself.

But she laughed. "Well, you don't look too bad yourself." We stood there awkwardly, me noticing little things about her - like her dark green nail polish, the little mole on the side of her neck, and a long scratch down the back of her arm that hadn't quite healed.

I looked around at the rest of the room. It was dim, with a large space cleared in the center that I guess was supposed to be the dance floor. Nobody was out there yet. In the back, there were tables of food. The single girls and guys stood in groups by themselves, while the couples hung out awkwardly. The music was loud, but not too loud, which I appreciated.

"Um . . . do you want to get some food or something?" I suggested. She looked relieved that I'd suggested something.

"Sure," she agreed, and we made our way over to the tables of food, picking up a few cookies and other treats that usually weren't allowed in the academy. I devoured about five cookies before I realized that I should probably have better manners. I glanced over at Kim to see her stifling laughter.

"Hungry?" she asked sarcastically, and I gave an embarrassed shrug, brushing crumbs off my lapel.

"They're good," I offered self-consciously.

Kim smirked. "Yeah, the lunch ladies must be on break." She paused, her face thoughtfully amused. "Do you remember what you said that first week-"

"Can't trust the lunch ladies," I interrupted, the same memories in my mind. "They all seem nice on the outside, but on the inside, they're demons."

The conversation flowed pretty easily after that. Rod drifted in and out of it, along with an auburn-haired girl in a blue dress that I didn't recognize. Slowly, groups of friends and couples drifted onto the dance floor, some singing along with familiar songs. Rod had a great time make completely unflattering comparisons such as: "That girl looks like a Hunter on drugs." Pause. "In a dress." Pause. Kim: "You know, I'm never going to unsee that mental image." Rod: *grins* "You're welcome!" Rod's date and I: *roll eyes*

It only took a few minutes before most people were on the dance floor, their combined gravitational force pulling the rest of us in, even if it was with a tiny bit of reluctance. I was surprised but pleased to see Cody on the dance floor, arm in arm with a pretty black-haired girl in a purple dress. I caught his eye and he gave me a smile and a wink, looking happier than I'd seen him in a long time.

As for Kim and I . . . well, let's put it this way. On a field day, after doing hundreds of push-ups and laps around the academy, Kim was sexy. Dancing in a dress under flashing colored lights, she was off the charts. I honestly don't remember what I did. For all I knew, I stood there staring at her. The dancing passed in a blur, and before I knew it, Kim grabbed my hand, pulling me off the dance floor.

"Sorry," she said breathlessly. Loose strands of hair drifted into her face, and she impatiently brushed them away. "I'm tired of the noise. Can we go somewhere a little quieter?"

"Sure," I agreed. This was the first time Kim had voluntarily touched me. The times she helped me stand up after being hurt or humiliated, and vice versa, didn't count. And she didn't let go. As we made our way to the edges of the crowds, as far away as possible from the speakers, Kim held my hand. And it felt good.

"You're quite the dancer," I said, grinning at her. She rolled her eyes, leaning against the wall.

"Please," she scoffed. "I honestly suck at dancing. Hand-to-hand combat is more my thing."

"Won't argue with that," I said. "Do you remember when you slapped Rod?"

She cracked up at the memory. "Oh my god, the look on your guys' faces was priceless. He looked like someone had just poured ice water down his pants."

I grinned at the image. "And me?"

"You? You looked like a cow hit on the head with a shovel."

I stared at her. "Excuse me?" That set her off into another round of laughter.

When she sobered a little, she continued, "And then you went into this huge speech about how dumb I was being." She paused, eyes faraway. "Once I realized you were right, I was so embarrassed. I mean, I was acting like Mark had used to act to me." As she spoke, she unconsciously released my hand and crossed her arms, as if to protect herself. My hand felt suddenly cold, and I closed it in a tight fist.

"What are you trying to say?" I ask, my voice a little harsher than I'd intended it to be.

She looked surprised. "Nothing, really. Just thinking out loud."  
I shook my head almost angrily. "I can't believe you would say that." Now her surprise was laced with a little anger.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded. I realized I was angry. A little.

"You are nothing like Mark," I told her fiercely, grabbing her hand.

"Maybe not," she answered in a quieter voice. "But I was still being a bitch."

"You were dealing with some shit. You had the right," I replied, trying to soften my tone. She made no such effort.

"What, so I could be a bitch because Mark was a dick to me? Yeah, sure, that makes a lot of damn sense!" she retorted angrily. "I'm not trying to make excuses! And you shouldn't either!"

"It's not an excuse, it's a reason. You-"

"You know what? Stop. Just stop," she said in a low, forceful voice. She paused, and a tinge of guilt traced its way across her face. "I should go." Pulling her hand out of mine, she stepped around me and began walking towards the exit.

I didn't want to let her go. But maybe I should. Maybe she needed some time by herself. Then Chris' voice came back to me: Trust me, it's better to just throw everything on the table because we're living in a universe where you could die at any moment. You don't want to die with regrets, Jason.

"Kim!" I called, jogging after her. She'd been walking slowly, shuffling her feet, so I caught her before she vanished into the crowds. She spun around as I reached her, surprised, but not nearly as surprised as the moment after, when I leaned forward and kissed her.

Suddenly all of my anger fell away, all of my doubt and anxiety and confusion vaporized inside of me, turned into steam by the warmth I now felt inside me. The heat grew, blossoming from my chest to fill every part of my body, It clouded up inside my head and made me dizzy, like I could barely breathe. Which made sense, because I couldn't. Breathing all of the sudden didn't seem like a necessary function. The only thing that mattered was the person I held in my arms.

At first she was hesitant, taken aback by the sudden motion, but that initial resistance disappeared as she kissed me back, pressing her lips against mine with a passion.

Everyone always describes their first kiss as having no end, a moment where time fell away and didn't matter. No one could tell you how long they remained in that tight embrace. Except for me. The counting was subliminal, ticking along in the back of my head while the rest of me was caught up in the moment.

I knew that I kissed Kimberly Barrett for exactly 32 seconds.

And it was the best 32 seconds of my life.

The End

* * *

I want to thank all of you who have read this fanfiction. As aspiring writers it means a lot to me and my friend Kyla1117 that so many people have read and appreciated this story. The feedback and reviews kept us going and wanting to make more.

Despite the statement above, this is not the end of Jason Stark's story. Keep an eye out for the next installment in this series, Tango Six, which will explore the lives of Fidelis Squad as ODSTs during the Human-Covenant war. There will be action, drama, violence, and plenty of language for all to enjoy. The first chapter will be released this summer, and subsequent chapters will come out on a weekly/bi-weekly basis. It will extend upon character's backstories, explore their relationships more in-depth, and deliver closure to the story as a whole.

And it will be longer than HUL ;)

Again, thank you for reading. In the mean time, be sure to check out me, ArkAngel1242, on FictionPress for a short story and Kyla1117 on Wattpad for plenty of excellent writing!


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